No Longer An Enemy
by Plaidly Lush
Summary: Befriended anonymously through letters, they grow to love each other. But there are some who want to keep them apart, because of jealousy or malice. Includes HPRW slashness.
1. In Medias Res

I was inspired. Just tell me what you think.   
  
Prologue- In Medias Res  
  
Draco's arms encircled her as they lay under the tree that night. Being prefects allowed them to be outside, out of sight of prying eyes. She was thankful for that; they did not need the comments it would bring. She turned to nestle against his chest. She did not know how long they had been lying there, but they should probably return soon.   
  
"Wait," he said, as though he could feel her thoughts. She pushed away just enough to look into his eyes. Since they had been together, she had not been able to stop her fascination with his eyes. They were gray, as she had always known, but when she looked closely they were sort of multi-faceted, almost like a gemstone. She waited for him to speak.   
  
"I don't know what I can do," Draco said slowly, quietly. "I feel like you're slipping away from me."   
  
Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, and if her intent was only to hide her face, his arms around her were a comfort. "I don't know, either."   
  
"There is really something you don't know?" he teased. She laughed half-heartedly. His face fell again. "Hermione, please help me. I can't lose you."   
  
She could not let him see the tears in her eyes. She pulled him close again, pressing her face into him. But he knew. He brushed away her tears with a gentle finger. Hermione stood slowly, unable to speak. Draco rose, taking hold of her hand as she began to walk away. Shutting her eyes, she turned to him.   
  
"Why is this happening?"   
  
Hermione kissed his soft lips and turned to go. His hand let go of hers. She knew he followed behind her, but she did not turn around, and she did not wait. She did not know what they were going to do now. They had always been on different sides, until this year. They were on the same side now, but for some reason she could not make Harry and Ron see that.   
  
When she entered the castle, she knew Draco was still out in the warm May night.   
  
End Prologue  
  
To see how they got together, read further… 


	2. The First Day

If you don't turn back now, you might get sucked in. Oh, yeah. I should disclaim here. I don't own any of them. But I do own the plot. Haha! Score 1 for Plaidly.   
  
Chapter 1- The First Day   
  
It was the day before his sixth year, and Harry Potter lay on his bed. Nothing had happened all summer, though Ron and Hermione had corresponded frequently with him, they did not know any more than he did. He was disappointed about not going to the Burrow, but at least Hermione was not there either.   
  
Uncle Vernon had just made a huge deal at work, and had taken Aunt Petunia and Dudley out to celebrate. They should be gone for- he stole a glance at the clock- another three hours. Harry, glad to be alone, nevertheless was wishing fervently for something to do.   
  
Suddenly a tapping came at the window. Harry opened it instinctively, waiting for the owl to fly in. Instead, an unfamiliar green bird perched on top of Hedwig's cage. He took the letter from it curiously. When he saw who had sent it, he almost dropped the letter.   
  
*Dear Harry,   
  
If you ever need anything from me, any question answered, this bird will know where to find me. Keep him with you.   
  
Love, Sirius*  
  
How could Sirius be sending him a letter? He was supposed to be dead. Harry soon gave up on that line of thought. It was too painful.   
  
That night he barely slept a wink.   
  
Uncle Vernon grumbled about having to drive him to King's Cross, but Harry just ignored him as he got his trunk and Hedwig's cage out of the car. As soon as he had removed his belongings, his uncle sped away. He had been using this approach ever since Harry's return from Hogwarts at the end of fifth year. "This approach" meant only being in Harry's vicinity as long as was absolutely necessary. Harry suspected he feared Moody something horrible.   
  
Harry got a trolley for his luggage, then headed straight for Platform 9 3/4. He got through the barrier without any trouble, to his relief, and was immediately met with the comforting sight of his fellow witchcraft and wizardry students. He caught Draco Malfoy's eye for a moment- *ugh, not so comforting*- but refused to look at him afterwards. Harry thought he should be smart and get his things into a compartment he did, quickly enough, then went back out to wait for Ron and Hermione. Sure enough, they were waiting for him when he emerged, their backs to him. Grinning, he began to creep toward them.  
  
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Hermione packed excitedly on August thirtieth, knowing she had more than enough time. She could not wait for the first of September. It was their sixth year at Hogwarts. She could not believe there were only two years left. The thought made her a little sad, but then she was excited again within seconds.   
  
Her parents, while they would be satisfied with Hogwarts as long as she was happy, never fully understood the world of magic. Not that they would. She would sometimes tell them about school, the work, the classes, the castle. They were politely interested but seemed never to believe all the things she told them. When she talked about Harry, Ron, Ginny, the teachers, then they could understand. And so she talked about Harry and Ron almost constantly. And she told them about their arch nemesis, Malfoy…  
  
On the morning of September first, Hermione awoke early. After her shower, she double checked her trunk to be sure she had everything. She threw in an extra quill, just to be safe, and then dressed. She decided on a pair of light blue corduroys, a black tank top, and her ever-reliable sandals.   
  
Her mother had set out a bowl of porridge for her, which she ate too hurriedly, barely tasting it. She impatiently bounced on her toes as her parents lethargically made their way through the morning.   
  
"Hermione, please stop pacing," her mother pleaded. "It's putting me on edge."   
  
"I'm sorry, mum, but can you please please please hurry up? I can't stand it."   
  
After another half an hour, they finally left the house.   
  
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Ron groaned in response to the pounding on his bedroom door. "Mum says if you don't get up now, you'll have to leave without breakfast!" Ginny yelled, quite unlady-like, through the door.   
  
Ron groaned again and tumbled out of bed. He had been having the most wonderful dream. But he couldn't not eat breakfast.   
  
He pulled on the jeans and t-shirt closest on hand, and stumbled downstairs. Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen, doing everything at once. "Thank god there are only two of you going this year," she said breathlessly.   
  
Ron caught Ginny hiding a smile. "What's with you?"   
  
She pointed to his hair. Ron put a hand to his head. It was not hard to tell just how horrible his hair looked. He groaned again and got up to go to the bathroom. Ten minutes was barely enough time to get his hair flat, but he managed. Better than Harry would, anyway, he thought with a grin.   
  
"Ron, are you ready?" his mother called.   
  
"Yeah, just gimme a minute." He pulled on socks and shoes, threw a sweater over his t-shirt, and they were out the door in no time. When they were in the car, Ron realized that he actually had *not* eaten anything. He groaned for what felt like the millionth time that morning.   
  
Rolling her eyes, Ginny produced a napkin full of toast. "You're hopeless," she said.   
  
"You're a brat," he replied affectionately. She grinned as she discreetly pinched his knee. "Ow," he barely got out through a mouthful of bread. "Hey, that hurt."   
  
"Oh, grow up," said Ginny.   
  
Their mother saw them through the barrier, then rushed off as quickly as possible. The siblings exchanged glances. "The Order?" Ron suggested quietly. Ginny shrugged, and ducked away, either avoiding someone or looking for someone. Ron found Hermione within the minute.   
  
"Hey, 'Mione," he smiled.   
  
"Ron, my name is *Her*mione. It's not difficult. Here, say it with me. Her-mi-o-ne."   
  
"Whatever you say, Mione," Ron teased. She rolled her eyes and looked toward the barrier. "Have you seen Harry yet?"   
  
"Who do you think I'm looking for?" she replied exasperatedly. Honestly, she got mad at nothing.   
  
Ron began to look around. He spotted Harry right away, walking silently toward them. Harry held a finger to his lips, and Ron grinned. He turned back around. Hermione, intent on looking for Harry, had not noticed. Ron turned again when Harry was right behind them, and they both grabbed Hermione at the same time.   
  
She screamed, then wheeled around to face them, her eyes flashing. "Don't *do* that! God, you scared me."   
  
Harry was pretending to clean out an ear with his finger. "Don't yell so loud, Hermione."   
  
Ron grinned. He and Harry shook hands, grinning. "Oh, stop smiling," Hermione snapped.   
  
"You know, you sound a lot like a dictator."   
  
"Well, I'm a prefect."   
  
"Me too."   
  
"But you're not a very *good* prefect."   
  
Ron and Harry stared at her incredulously. After a moment, Harry shrugged, "You know, she's got a point."   
  
Ron shrugged back and they got on the train. He was not looking forward to the portion of the ride in the prefects' compartment, but the rest of it could not be any worse than usual. Which meant he had something to look forward to…  
  
His mood turned sullen as soon as he entered the compartment and came face to face with Malfoy.   
  
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"Draco!" Narcissa called. "Are you almost ready? Your father had to go, pressing business, so I'll be taking you to the station."   
  
"Bloody wonderful," Draco muttered. Not that he did not love his mother. Not that he was not glad that his father was away. He just did not care either way who took him to King's Cross.   
  
He finished piling his homework into the trunk and shut it loudly, upsetting his handsome eagle owl. "Sorry, Rasputin," he muttered. It seemed he had been doing a lot of muttering lately. He grabbed his things and took them down the stairs.   
  
It was rather cold. Over his black fitted t-shirt, he pulled on a black ribbed turtleneck sweater. His mother was tapping her foot at the bottom of the stairs. When he reached her, however, she did not move. After a few minutes, he turned to her. "What?"   
  
"Let me see."   
  
Reluctantly, Draco pulled back the sleeve of his sweater up to the elbow. On his arm were carved some words, but now they could not be made out. He had cut them there during school last year, and they had long since faded. His mother had seen the day he came home and made a huge fuss. She was satisfied that the cuts were healing over.   
  
"Only small scars will be left, eventually," she said, kissing his forehead.   
  
*Great,* he thought sourly, *small scars to remind me of the one thing I can never have.*   
  
His mother left him at the station after a little bit. Where she was going, Draco did not know or care. He put his things into the prefects' compartment. He would stay there when the others left, and Crabbe and Goyle would join him. He almost sneered at the thought of the two, but then he remembered they were his friends. They were supposed to be his friends. You don't sneer at your friends.   
  
He saw Potter come through the barrier. He caught his eyes for a moment, but then they both looked away. Draco didn't care about Potter. He was waiting for someone else to come through.   
  
It took a few more minutes, but she came through the barrier at last. She looked surprised and wary when she noticed him watching her. He sneered and swept onto the train. He wished he had not looked for so long. He was being too obvious.   
  
Once the train was off, the rest of the prefects crowded into the compartment with the Head Boy and Head Girl. He didn't know their names. He didn't care what their names were. They gave out the passwords, talked to the fifth year prefects about their duties, and left.   
  
Weasley and Granger came in almost last. Weasley kept shooting him murderous looks the whole time they were there. Draco sneered back, but didn't say anything. Granger sat quietly, avoiding eye contact. He almost laughed at her manner. She was being so polite. To him.   
  
As soon as the meeting was finished, they left. Pansy Parkinson stayed in with him, unsurprisingly. Pansy was all right, most of the time, but Draco did not care for her in the least. Why, oh why did he *have* to want what he could not have?   
  
Crabbe and Goyle joined them. They played Exploding Snap, ate off the trolley, insulted Potter and Weasley, the usual, until the train pulled up in front of Hogwarts.   
  
It was all the usual. That's all anything was. The horseless carriages, the Sorting, introduction of the new DADA teacher- Professor Winkly- the usual. Even the food, which he had always thought of as exceptional, was just the usual.   
  
Prefect duty that night was exhausting. When Draco returned, he stripped down to his black silk boxers. He thought of that long letter he had written, with the plan of exactly where to place it. He resolved he would do it, on his next duty. Then he turned to the one thing that he was glad was the usual. His bed.   
  
End Chapter  
  
I haven't decided about point of view yet. I think I'm going to be switching around, but not all in the same chapter. Well, review, and all that good stuff. 


	3. The Letter

Thank you Darkangel-95 for your review. You were the first one, go you!   
  
Chapter 2- The Letter  
  
~* I've often wondered what life is worth. Is life worth living with my father? Is life worth pretending always to be something you're not. Is life worth loving from afar? My first answer is always no, of course not. But then I think, maybe it will not always be this way. Maybe things will get better. Then, life will be worth having done those things.   
  
Loving from afar. I'll bet you're wondering about that one. Why is it that the one thing I want more than anything, is the only thing I can't have? Does that seem fair to you? I don't think it is. I've loved her for what seems like forever. It was last February when I started having these feelings about her. I didn't know what they were, then. I just knew they were there. After a few months, I realized what these feelings meant. I love her, more than I think I could love anyone. But what of it? Would she ever give me a second glance? Would she ever think of me as anything but an enemy? It does not seem so. All I can do is watch her, and wish. How often do wishes come true?   
  
Too many unanswered questions. I don't know anyone who could answer them. Except maybe her. She probably has the answers, but I would never be able to ask her these things.   
  
I'm writing this never expecting an answer. I'm never even expecting anyone to read it. I have to get the words out, though. They're still tearing me up, but now that it's out, they're tearing more slowly. Maybe I can survive long enough for the better life part in the end.*~  
  
She came to the end of the letter. If she had ever read anything sadder or more heartfelt, she did not know where. She wondered who he was, but the letter gave no hints. She wondered who the girl he spoke of was. Her heart went out to the poor fellow.   
  
After pulling parchment and quill toward her, she paused. Should she really do this? After all, he had even said he did not expect an answer…  
  
*No, I can't just ignore it. He needs someone to talk to. If he had someone, he wouldn't have written the letter.*   
  
She nibbled on a nail while thinking. Then she put her quill to the paper and scratched out the best reply she could muster.   
  
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As usual, classes had been- the usual. Draco sighed as he picked at the rice pudding on his plate.   
  
Narcissa's owl soared toward him. He smiled as he read her note. He scrawled a reply relating the lack of news, and sent the beautiful black owl on its way.   
  
"Can you believe they're still sitting together?" Pansy said amusedly. "Granger may be smart, but she sure doesn't know how to choose friends."   
  
Draco didn't speak. Crabbe and Goyle chortled stupidly. Were these people really his friends? He felt rather pathetic. Muttering that he had to go to the bathroom, he took his things and left the table.   
  
Once he had left the hall, he wondered what to do. He did not actually have to go to the bathroom. "Bloody Hell," he muttered, and wandered aimlessly through the hall.   
  
At last he came to the place where he had left his letter. Hesitating for a moment, he checked to see if it was still there. He sighed. It was. Well, it was a bit foolish to think that someone would find it after only two days.   
  
But- was that the same letter? There was something about it that did not seem right. He took a closer look. On the outside, a very short note was written. It said, *For you*. Gingerly he reached for it.   
  
Draco lounged on his bed, staring at the ceiling and sucking a sugar quill. How could he answer that? It seemed that everything had been said. But maybe not. This person did seem willing to talk to him. Maybe he could ask for advice on something else. He just didn't know *what*.   
  
After careful consideration, he wrote. Rereading it afterward, he realized that it had come out completely different from the way he planned. Once he started writing, his pen had just taken off, as though it had his mind but more guts. He didn't care. He kind of trusted whoever had answered his first letter.   
  
He was late for class. He placed the letter in the same spot as before, then started toward class…and then thought better of it. It was History of Magic, Binns never noticed or cared who was there, as long as he could keep on talking. Droning was a better word for it. Draco smiled wryly.   
  
So he missed a class. One class is fine. Especially if the teacher doesn't even notice. He flopped back on his bed, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.   
  
He was walking through an empty mansion, turning and checking rooms at random. She had to be here, he knew she had to. He kept searching. At last he came to the only door he had not checked. She was here, behind this door. He could feel it…   
  
The door opened. The room was empty.   
  
Draco awoke cursing his luck.   
  
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The next time she had prefect duty, she snuck to the place for the letters. Checking to make sure no one saw her, she reached down. There was a letter there.   
  
She examined it. It was not the one she had left there. It was a new one. Smiling triumphantly, she slipped it into her robes and continued down the hall.   
  
End Chapter  
  
Kind of short, I know, but that's the way it goes.   
  
Hey, I have a question for the readers. I'm wondering who I should pair Ginny with, if anyone…and it can't be Harry. Harry is already paired. If anyone says Snape (ew) I will gouge out my lungs with a dull kitchen utensil.   
  
Thanks, now review! 


	4. Her Reply

Disclaimer: Put it this way. If you recognize something, I probably don't own it. If you don't, I probably do. That's the end of disclaimers for this story.   
  
Chapter 3- Her Reply  
  
~*I don't know how to answer your questions. But I will try.   
  
You can leave your father. Maybe not yet, but someday soon you will. I know you will find the strength within you. I cannot tell you what to do, because I do not know your situation. I do not know you. But I do know that you will not have to live with him forever.   
  
Why do you feel you must pretend? Is it because you are afraid what people might say? Sometimes it takes a while for people to stop caring what others think. I know I used to care about that more than anything, but I've learned that the only opinions that matter are that of the ones you care most about. And your true friends, who become your true family, will not judge you. I am sorry if you do not feel that you have true friends. No one deserves to be alone that way. I know, I felt it. Before I came to Hogwarts, I did not have many friends. But now, I know I have friends for life. If you need me, I am here to be your friend.   
  
If the pretending is connected to either of the other questions, I might have different advice. Are you afraid of your father? Are you afraid of what he might do if he knew the real you? I do not have the perfect solution here. This may sound bad, but you may have to pretend to be someone else for him for the time being. When the time comes for you to leave him, then you can let him see you without fear.   
  
Loving from afar is another matter. I have never been in love. I do not know how to give you advice, because I have never felt what you are feeling. Sometimes I think I never will. When you talk about 'her', I can almost feel the pain you are feeling at not being with her. But how can you be sure she does not return your feelings if you have never asked her? I realize it must be hard, and even the bravest quake with fear when approaching a woman, but is love not worth the risk? Or, possibly, you could bide your time until the risk was not as great. People often bear unnecessary weight on their shoulders because they are afraid. I would not know, but I imagine that unrequited love is a terrible thing to feel.   
  
Reading your letter, I can tell how strong your feeling for her are. Would I be wrong in saying they surpass any other feelings you have, for anyone? I wish someone loved me that way. Maybe, she will be receptive to your love. Maybe she could grow to love you simply because you love her so much. Or maybe, she could grow to love you because you are a wonderful person. Because how could anyone who wrote such a letter not be? Maybe she already loves you.   
  
Never pretend to be someone you are not for someone you love. Love is not worth such a façade. Because then the person is not really in love with you, but with a fake you. That can cause such dreadful complications. The burden on the pretender, for one. And if the real you is revealed, then your relationship is never the same. I've heard stories about people who pretended their whole lives for a loved one, and it killed them. Some people are not strong enough to do that. Besides, no one should have to hide themselves. Especially not someone with a mind and heart like yours.   
  
But I've gotten a little off track here. What I intended to say was, you should talk to her before you make up your mind about how she feels. You cannot speak for someone else until you've heard it right from them.   
  
I don't know whether any of this has helped you. I hope so. I don't know what else to say. I would love to talk with you (through letters, if you want) some more. I guess I don't expect an answer either, but I think you expected one even less. Anyway, respond if you want, but if you don't it's all right. I just could not help speaking to you. You sounded so heartbroken*~  
  
End Chapter  
  
In case you didn't figure it out, that was her response to Draco's first letter. If you figure out who she is, yay for you. Oh come on. It's not that hard to guess. I mean, you *know* what eventually happens…wink.   
  
No gouging took place, thank god. But I did get a good suggestion. Thank you muchly. Review. Review. Oh, I already said that didn't I? 


	5. Correspondence

Thank you all for your reviews, I am so glad you like it. I'm sorry if sometimes it takes a while to update. It's just school and all that sucky stuff.   
  
Chapter 4- Correspondence  
  
Harry alighted on the ground to the sound of a roaring cheer. The first Quidditch match of the year, against Slytherin, had been a rather bloody event, but he had managed to pull through and win it for them once again. He stood on the muddy ground holding the snitch high above his head. The other six members of the team bore down upon him, wrapping him in a tight hug.   
  
Hermione beamed at him from a few feet away. "Great job Harry! You too, Ron, that was great!" Harry knew that she was more proud of them than happy about winning a Quidditch match.   
  
"Thanks, Hermione." He turned to Ron. "Well done, mate."   
  
Ron grinned. "Thanks. You too. We'll see you in the dorm, Hermione." They started for the showers.   
  
Harry nudged Ron. "Does Malfoy look more depressed than usual after a game?"   
  
Ron shrugged. "Who cares?"   
  
"Good game, guys," Katie Bell, Gryffindor's captain, told them in the locker room. "Just keep up this kind of playing and we'll have no trouble winning the Cup."   
  
Ginny was receiving compliments from every side. It was her first game as a Chaser, and she had not missed a single shot. She was beaming widely, looking as though her face must hurt from smiling so much. She seemed unable to stop. When Harry smiled back at her, she grinned even wider.   
  
The usual celebration took place in the Gryffindor common room. Harry was not sure what would happen to the atmosphere of pranks and laughter with the absence of the Weasley twins, but to his surprise it was Ginny who pulled out the tricks- many of which came courtesy of Fred and George. And to his greater surprise, Seamus Finnigan- the other Chaser- spent most of the night by her side, laughing uproariously and, it seemed, flirting. He tried to keep Ron from noticing, not sure what he would do to Seamus if he did.   
  
Harry himself was the one who disappeared for half an hour, returning with an armful of butterbeer and candy. The Gryffindors fell upon it all with great enthusiasm, even the tiny first years who never seemed to speak when older students were around.   
  
When he returned, he found Ron and Hermione sitting in a corner of the common room, laughing over something the way they did right before an argument started. In an attempt to stop it, Harry hurried over. Too late.   
  
"Just because *you* are too stuck up and self absorbed to have noticed, doesn't mean it didn't happen! Ronald Weasley, you can take your broomstick and put it YOU-KNOW-WHERE!"   
  
Harry stopped short a few feet from them. Luckily, the noise in the common room was so raucous that no one else had noticed. Hermione hardly ever raised her voice like that, and she never said things like that. She stormed up to the girls' dormitory, oblivious of the first years she almost knocked over on the way.   
  
Cautiously, Harry approached Ron. "What was that all about?"   
  
"I don't know," Ron shrugged. "She was mentioning someone she's been talking to. I just said I haven't seen her talk to anyone lately besides us. She didn't have to take it that way, I was just making an observation."   
  
Harry shook his head. Hermione's temper seemed to have flared up over the summer. Then again, Ron always had a knack for ticking her off. "Come on, Ron, just forget about it. Have a butterbeer."   
  
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Hermione spent three pages ranting about her so-called friends and how they did not understand a thing, and they could not just let her have her own life without butting in and knowing every single detail. Then she wrote two pages on school, how things were different this year, Professor Winkly compared to their previous DADA teachers…before realizing that he probably did not want to hear about school. *He goes here too.* But she didn't remove anything she had written. She never did. And neither did he. It kept them honest, and she felt like she knew him, even though she had no idea who she was. They were always careful to avoid any names, even names of teachers. Except Professor Winkly, she noted…  
  
She added a page sorting out her thoughts, her newest insight-   
  
~*Anonymous pen pals should be a new fad. It would be quite difficult to establish, but it really is quite freeing. When neither of you know who the other is, you can say whatever you want without fear of embarrassment. You can never be afraid of them telling someone, and even if they did, no one would know who it was. It is so nice to have someone to talk to. I don't have anyone else to whom I can just say whatever I want, and know the person I'm talking- well, writing- to won't judge me on it.   
  
It's a lot harder to get into an argument when you're talking on paper. Especially since the letters are so long. Have you noticed how often we go off topic? I find these digressions lead to interesting places but keep us from getting the original point across completely successfully. The interruptions do not help to keep one train of thought.   
  
But I still think this is the best thing for both of us. I feel I can talk to you about anything. I don't care who you are, you are amazing at listening to me and sharing your own feelings. I wish my other friends could be like that.*~  
  
The response came not long after. It was a rant that seemed to mock hers, talking about how some people go on and on monotonously about things nobody wants to listen to…or read about. It went on and on monotonously. Then closer to the end-   
  
~* First of all, *you* get off topic often. My train of thought can stay on its track, while yours apparently goes careening off the road into Merlin knows what direction. Read my letters, you'll see. My thoughts are clear and concise. You're the disorganized one.  
  
And you can very well start an argument on paper. I guarantee it'll be proven to you within a week. Honestly, it does not matter how bloody long the letters are, you can have an argument along with anything else you have to say. Now tell me I'm wrong.*~  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at these last two paragraphs.   
  
~* I am most certainly *not* disorganized, and I seem to remember you starting in on a Potions class and ending up talking about your hair regimen. If you can show me the connection, then I'll will myself to turn into a flobberworm for a day. Maybe I go off topic more often, but you do it as well and that's the whole point.   
  
People lose track of what they're arguing about during such long letters. Why you are trying to convince me that arguments *can* actually be sustained I do not know. How are you supposed to prove this to me? I can't think of one way.   
  
Don't swear.*~   
  
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At her rant, Draco sighed continuously through five pages, and almost laughed at her sudden change of topic. He decided to respond with a rant of his own. He wrote seven pages about how some people just did not stop talking, saying the same things over and over using different vocabulary.   
  
Then he began to refute her logic, just to prove her wrong. He had done so twice already, and it was only the middle of October. He found some odd enjoyment in it.   
  
When he got her response, he laughed. He had already proved his point, within the course of one letter. He wrote back a very short response to her last letter, the one that ended with "Don't swear".   
  
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Hermione finally got back to their spot, and quickly scooped up the letter. It was quite smaller than usual this time. Checking to be sure no one was looking, she unfolded the paper. She was surprised and at first confused by the contents.   
  
~* See?*~  
  
See what? What was…? *Oh, I see.*   
  
So he had proven his point. Well, good for him, then.   
  
~*Okay, I get it. Very funny. Next time could you please write something I can actually respond to? How am I supposed to get a good letter from just, "See?"? I mean, all right, we could argue in the letters if you really wanted to, but I liked it the way it was before, when we were just talking. Could we please just talk? I get enough argument already.  
  
Sometimes I wish you weren't so far away. I know I said I love this anonymous pen pal thing, but really I would love someone I can talk with face to face. I talk to my other friends, sure, but I can't talk to them about *everything* I need to talk about. With you, I feel like I could lay my soul bare and you would just sit and listen. That is what I want to do. I want to lay my soul bare for you. I want to meet you and know you. It doesn't matter to me who you are, just that you are you.   
  
You sound like you need a friend, a real, substantial friend. Not someone you can't see, someone who you know, really know. I think, even though I have friends, that I need one too. Do you know what I mean? Sometimes I feel like they can't see me, really. But I know you can.*~  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco thought very hard about how to respond to this letter. It surprised him how they went from joviality to extreme seriousness in the course of one person's letter. He agreed with her, but he was not sure he was ready to meet her. Everyone in the school knew his reputation. What would she think when she found out the malicious, uncaring Draco Malfoy had written all those things? Would she tell everyone he was really just a soft, effeminate whimp? No, the way she wrote told him she wouldn't. Still, he was worried.   
  
The day before Halloween, on which day there was to be a ball for the students, he placed his reply in their secret mailbox.   
  
~*I know what you mean. I feel the same way.   
  
If you are serious, then meet me. November 1st, 11:45 of the clock, the Room of Requirement. Since you told me where it is in that letter, I assume I don't need to tell you.   
  
Just be there.*~  
  
End Chapter 4   
  
Next chapter is the Halloween Ball. No, they don't meet, I'm sorry. But they will in the chapter after. I promise.   
  
At the time when I'm writing this, I have exactly three reviews for each chapter. Neat.   
  
Review, I will love you for at least the time when I'm reading your review!! 


	6. The Halloween Ball

Chapter 5- The Halloween Ball   
  
*When did I mention the Room of Requirement?* Hermione wondered as she got into her luminescent pale blue dress robe for the Halloween Ball. *Oh well. I suppose I did, and there isn't really anything I can do about it now.*   
  
Hermione knew Ginny had entered when she heard Lavender and Parvati's loud and giggly comments about her robes. She was about to roll her eyes when she turned and caught her breath instead. She saw exactly what they had been exclaiming over.   
  
Ginny's robes were deeply black, elegant, and sleeveless, with a modest neckline but a back that plunged seductively. The soft fabric hung in folds where the plunging halted. The lightness of the fabric allowed it to cling in all the right places, swishing gently when she moved. She wore a pair of black gloves that reached past her elbow. Above that her creamy white skin was exposed. Her brilliant hair, usually long and straight, had been molded into beautiful curls that rested just below her shoulders. She wore a necklace with the chain charmed to invisibility, to the effect that the small pearls strung at intervals appeared to float around her neck. If Hermione had ever been more jealous in her life, she could not remember when. Especially since she had not had access to the hair straightening potion she had used in fourth year.   
  
"Ginny, you look amazing."   
  
Ginny grinned. "Thanks, Hermione. I thought I'd come see how you were doing."  
  
"Well, I can't do a thing with my hair."   
  
"Come here." Hermione obeyed. After careful consideration, Ginny did something- Hermione was not sure what- to her hair. "Look in the mirror."   
  
Bracing herself, Hermione chanced a quick peek- and then stood shocked in front of the mirror. Only a moment before, her hair had been bushy and wild. Now it hung in smooth, soft curls halfway down her back, with tiny braids shimmering with silver strewn throughout. "How did you do that?"   
  
Ginny flashed a wicked smile. "That's my little secret."   
  
"Where *did* you get your robes, Ginny?" Lavender asked hopefully.   
  
Ginny smiled again. "That's another secret." She started to search through Parvati's makeup kit. "But if you let me use your makeup I might tell you one of them." Parvati nodded eagerly. Ginny chose makeup for herself and Hermione.   
  
When Hermione next surveyed herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her lipstick was hardly darker than her lips themselves, but added a delicate shimmer. Her eyelids shone a light shimmery blue, to match her robes, and they were lined underneath, just barely noticeable, with a much darker blue. Her cheeks now held a faint rosy blush. Between the hair and the makeup, she looked nothing like herself.   
  
After her own makeup adventure, Ginny looked like a supermodel. She wore a sultry red lipstick and had somehow given her eyes a smoky effect and given them a hint of green in the process. She wore the lightest blush she could find. It was barely visible, but just enough to bring out her perfect cheekbones.   
  
"Now," she said. "I'll tell you about my robes."   
  
Lavender and Parvati both leaned forward eagerly. Hermione noticed how beautiful they both looked. Lavender was wearing pale pink robes and a slightly darker shade of lipstick. Her eyeshadow was chosen to bring out her bright blue eyes, and her cheeks glowed both with blush and excitement. Her hair was swept half up and curled into small springs, bouncing whenever she moved her head.   
  
"Now, I know that you know my family doesn't have a lot of money," Ginny said sourly. "But I really did need dress robes, so I found another way to get them."   
  
Parvati was dressed in dark green silk with lace at the trim, which fitted her body like one of Ginny's gloves. Her lips were a red similar to Ginny's, with a bit more brown in it. Her eyes had no shadow, but were lined in an enticing black. She had added tiny rhinestones to her usual long black plait.   
  
"I made them."   
  
At once Parvati, Lavender, and Hermione all gasped unintentionally. "Oh my goodness, Ginny!" Lavender squeeled. "That's amazing. You could probably sell them, seriously! But what about the hair."   
  
"Uh-uh," Ginny said sneakily, shaking a finger. "That one is going to remain my secret."   
  
Lavender and Parvati chattered loudly as they left together for the ball. Hermione at last allowed herself the eye roll she had been aching for. Then she said, "Thank you so much, Ginny. I would never be able to look like this on my own."   
  
Ginny winked. "I'll teach you. Let's go."   
  
Hermione felt very self-conscious walking next to Ginny. The younger girl was a good deal taller than her, though not nearly as tall as Ron and a few inches shorter than Harry. Hermione, though, had always been shorter than any of them, and though they usually refrained from teasing her they could not resist the occasional jibe.   
  
Nervously, she let Ginny lead the way to the common room. She realized that it was probably a mistake to walk in *after* someone who looked like Ginny. Probably, no one would even notice her.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Come on, Ron. It's better than last year, at least. Anyway, we're all going as a group. Don't worry about it. Just put your robes on, and hurry up about it will you?"   
  
Ron was standing in front of his bed in only his red paisley boxers. Harry wanted to laugh at the thought that Ron would own boxers to match his pajamas, but he didn't. It probably would not help the situation.   
  
Harry could not see what the problem was, though. The dress robes Ron had this year were brand new, definitely the darkest he expected bright blue could be. They looked much like Harry's own robes, which he was already wearing. His hair had refused to succumb to any semblance of order despite half an hour of combing, and he had given up when the mirror in the bathroom had said, "Oh, it's hopeless, dear, just go and have fun."   
  
"Ron, come *on*. We're going to miss the whole thing."   
  
"Gee, that's disappointing."   
  
"I promise you'll have more fun than you did last year. Viktor Krum's not here, remember?"   
  
Ron shot him a look. Seamus sighed and added his own comments. "If you don't hurry up the girls will be ready before we are. You have no idea how *that* would look to some of them."   
  
After five more minutes of arguing, they finally managed to wrestle Ron into his robes and drag him downstairs to the common room. While waiting, Ron tried several times to escape back up to the dorms, until Harry threatened to hex him- nothing serious, he would just lose control of his legs and end up looking like a fool on the dance floor. After that, Ron stood grumbling with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently for the girls to descend.   
  
Lavender and Parvati passed them, and Harry acknowledged with a raise of his eyebrows that their efforts had been worthwhile. He caught Ron looking as well, though he did not seem any happier.   
  
A few minutes passed, with no sign of Ginny or Hermione. After checking Seamus's watch for the zillionth time, Harry finally glimpsed Ginny walking regally down the stairs from the girls' dormitory. When her full figure was in view, Harry was unable to tear his eyes away. She looked radiant and seductive, and Harry had to shake himself at the thought in order to shift his gaze. It settled on Hermione, who looked absolutely beautiful. He smiled at her, and she smiled uncertainly back. He saw her eyes flicker to his hair once.   
  
Harry looked at his male companions. Seamus was gazing raptly at Ginny, his eyes twice their usual size. Ron's jaw had dropped lower than Harry would have thought possible, and he was now trying to get Ginny to go get a cloak to cover herself. She just laughed him off and playfully suggested that he might wake up with his face covered in Yellownabers if he did not shut up.   
  
It seemed to Harry, when he observed the room, that every male in the common room had turned when Ginny arrived, and every female member had glared with jealousy upon noticing what the boys were staring at. Ginny gave him a grin and a wink.   
  
Hermione stood quietly off to the side. Harry offered her his arm. "Care for an escort?" She took it gratefully and gently. Seamus did the same for Ginny. Harry laughed at the thought that to follow suit, Ron might do so for Neville, but dismissed the notion. Still, he whispered it to Hermione, who laughed softly. She turned to glance back at Ron and Neville, both walking warily behind the group. Her hair swung to the side as she did, one of the tiny braids catching the light. Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Who did your hair?"   
  
"Ginny," Hermione answered simply, smiling at her. Ginny smiled slyly back, winking again. It was her new trademark, winking.   
  
The Great Hall held many smaller round tables with five chairs each surrounding a large space cleared for dancing. A stage was set up, on which stood a group of musicians known commonly as the Weird Sisters. They were tuning their instruments as the group of Gryffindors entered, the resulting sound not one Harry would have chosen to listen to.   
  
They chose a table at the far end, where they could watch everyone come in and stole a chair from one of the other tables for Neville. Seamus, the perfect gentlemen, pulled Ginny's chair out for her, and pushed it in as she sat down. She winked at him. Ron almost blew smoke out his nose.   
  
Harry was just wondering why no one else except the teachers were there when the doors opened again and what seemed like the whole rest of the school entered. Some were in couples, there were a few larger groups, and even fewer entered alone. They chose tables rather hurriedly, the singles mostly opting to stand by the wall.   
  
Dinner was a loud affair, full of jokes and, of course, food. After about half an hour, people got up to dance, the Weird Sisters playing a lively tune. Harry sat tapping his foot in time with the music unwittingly. He had not noticed the absence of two members of their table until he turned to find two empty chairs. "Where are Ginny and Seamus?"   
  
Hermione smiled amusedly, and Ron nodded sourly to the dance floor. Harry turned, spotting them. Ginny was laughing with delight, Seamus grinning from ear to ear. He twirled her and steered her, pulling her close and pushing her out in tricky little moves. From Ron's point of view, Harry could see how sometimes they were too close. He did notice one thing, though. Seamus was a better dancer than he would have thought.   
  
A while later, they sat down again, and Ron stood and stalked off. Ginny grinned and winked almost imperceptibly at Harry, who cleared his throat. "I'm going to, um, get a drink," he said, standing. He paused. "Does anyone want anything?"   
  
"I'll take one," Ginny said cheerfully. Neville and Seamus shook their heads.   
  
"Hermione?"   
  
She nodded weakly.   
  
"Are you all right, Hermione?"   
  
"What? Oh- yes, I'm fine, Harry."  
  
Not quite believing her, Harry went for the drinks, and returned a few minutes later. Seamus drank from Ginny's glass. Ron had been returning at that moment, but upon seeing this turned on his heel and exited. He did not return for the rest of the night.   
  
Ginny and Seamus got up again to dance. This song was slower, and many couples swayed together on the dance floor. Seamus held Ginny so close that Harry was glad Ron had gone. He hoped he would not be short one roommate before the night was out.   
  
Neville got up to use the bathroom, and knowing him would most likely be injured on the way there or back. This left Harry and Hermione alone at the table.   
  
They sat for a little while in awkward silence. Not knowing what else to do, Harry asked. "Um, Hermione? Would you like to dance?"   
  
She smiled shyly. "Yes, all right."   
  
He offered his arm again, leading her out onto the floor. He only took her right to the edge, not wanting to get caught up in the crowd. Harry only then realized that he was not quite sure what to do. Hermione helped him by taking one of his hands, and he placed the other gently on her waist. Because keeping one hand on his shoulder would very likely have tired out her arm, she placed it on his chest instead. He followed the lead of the other couples, twirling her slowly but surely to the music.   
  
"Thank you, Harry."   
  
"Are you really all right? I've never seen you this quiet, and that *includes* that time in third year when…you know."   
  
"I know. I'm all right, Harry, I was just…thinking. I'm nervous."   
  
"About what?"   
  
"It's just something- oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you worry. It's just there's an essay I haven't finished yet and it's due in four days and-"   
  
She broke off because Harry was laughing. He couldn't help it. Only Hermione would spoil a Halloween Ball for herself by thinking about homework. "Is that all? Just forget about it, Hermione. You still have time to do it. You'll probably get five hundred percent on it no matter when you finish."   
  
She smiled. She laughed along with Harry. He wondered whether she was agreeing with him or whether his laughter was just that effective. The rest of the night, for him and especially for Hermione, was much more enjoyable. They ended up dancing right alongside Seamus and Ginny.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione felt bad about lying to Harry, but she refused to break the confidence of her anonymous pen pal. She did take his advice, however, and forgot about it for the time being. She got lost in her happiness, and it wasn't until later, up in her room, that she remembered him.   
  
She had to find Ginny to undo her hair. It was later than she had intended, but Ginny was not in her room. She crept down to the common room, where she was shocked by the sight of two people making out on the couch. The shocking thing was that the two people were Seamus and Ginny. Hoping that Ron did not happen to leave his room that night, she tiptoed back up the stairs. Her hair could wait.   
  
End Chapter 5   
  
I know you all really wanted to see them reveal themselves, but you'll just have to wait until next chapter. I'll post as soon as I can, so you won't have to wait *too* long. I love reviews. 


	7. How Ironic

Chapter 6- How Ironic  
  
Draco had finally given in to Pansy Parkinson and asked her to the ball to stop her incessant comments and sighs. He had dressed in his black velvet dress robes and brought her down to the Great Hall. He had watched couples dancing. He had spotted Granger sitting daintily, her hair glittering under the light, in light blue robes. He had excused himself after half an hour and left the table. He had gone to his room and stayed there for the rest of the night, reading over the letters he had received.   
  
On the night of November first, Draco impatiently paced around his bed, irritating his roommates so much that they had all left within fifteen minutes. The same worries came to him. Another one he had not considered yet fluttered into his mind. What if this person was nothing like he expected? What if he just could not stand her? Butterflies began to settle in his stomach. He angrily yelled at them to get out, then realized how foolish he was being and resumed pacing.   
  
A quick glance at the clock told him that it was almost time for the meeting. Cursing himself for losing track of time, he hurried out to the Room of Requirement.   
  
When the door appeared for him, he hesitated before pushing it open. A few feet from the door, dark red curtains hung from a golden bar on the ceiling, running the length of the room. *Red and gold, how ironic,* Draco thought derisively. He stepped through them, stopping short when he saw the other occupant of the room.   
  
Her back was to him, but her bushy hair and her height made her easily recognizable. He shook his head in wonderment. "I should have known," he said softly.   
  
Hermione spun. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"   
  
"Aren't you supposed to be smart?" She looked at him blankly, though at the comment her eyes flashed. He sighed and began to explain as though she were not at all as smart as was her reputation. "Well, you see, I've been corresponding with somebody in this school through anonymous letters. In the last one she sent to me, she said she wished we knew each other. I decided to grant her wish, and told her to meet me here, in the Room of Requirement, which she told me exactly how to get to. And now, here we both are."   
  
"I don't believe you wrote those things."   
  
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow at her. She was weakening in her resolve. "Argument through letters. Your friends don't understand you. Potions class to hair regimen. Anything starting to sound familiar? I hate my father. I love someone who is not in love with me. What is life worth. And of course, the one word response, 'See'."   
  
Hermione was clutching her head with her hands. She dropped onto one end of the long overstuffed couch. Draco sat on the other end. It just had to be her, didn't it?   
  
"I don't know…I don't know what to say. You are the last person I would have expected to write things like that. What…what was it you said before?"   
  
"I said I should have known."   
  
"Known what?"   
  
"That it was you."   
  
"What? Why- how?"   
  
*Because life is cruel that way.* "Because of the letters. The way you always talk about school. '…a quarter inch short of three feet so I should add a few more sentences, just to be sure'," he mocked. "And you always reprimand me for swearing."   
  
There was a long silence. Draco was waiting for Hermione to speak, but she did not seem to have anything to say. Hermione finally said, "So…what do we do now?"   
  
"I knew it," Draco said accusingly.   
  
"Knew what?"   
  
"I knew that as soon as you found out I was the one writing to you, you would just abandon me."   
  
"No!" she exclaimed, and fell silent at her outburst. He waited again. She took a deep breath. "I have to admit that I would never think you capable of writing such things. Now that I know it's you, I…it's just you always hated me. What am I supposed to think?"   
  
"I didn't hate you," he said quietly.   
  
"Then why are you always so cruel?"   
  
"It's a cover," he said. "I've been doing that thing you said for my whole life. Pretending to be someone else for the benefit of my father. He would hear about anything I did in school, and then…" he wondered whether it was wise to tell her. Then again, this was the same person he had trusted with every other aspect of his life.   
  
She looked sympathetic. "Okay. Just let me finish now. I guess I'm the only one who knows the real you. Everyone else sees this act. I know what really goes on inside your head. I know you aren't the absolute chit everyone takes you for. You couldn't be. It doesn't matter that you are someone who has been one of my worst enemies since I came to Hogwarts. You still need a friend. I am willing to be your friend. Will you be mine?"   
  
This time it was Draco who was silent. It was all working out, all going well. But why did it have to be her? "That must have been hard for you to say."   
  
"Well…yes, actually. To offer friendship to Draco Malfoy? If anyone had told me this before the letters, I would have laughed."   
  
"Well, thanks."   
  
"I'm sorry. But you know what I mean."   
  
He sighed. "Yeah."   
  
They looked at each other briefly. When she caught his eye, she smiled. He smiled back. It was almost painful. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. He didn't know his face muscles moved that way.   
  
"I think we should go back," he said, for lack of anything else to say. "Goodnight, Hermione." Her name was bliss on his tongue.   
  
She looked surprised, and blushed just a little. "Goodnight, Draco." She held out her hand to him. Instead of shaking it, he just held it for a few seconds before letting go and leaving for his bed.   
  
He would miss the letters, but he would definitely benefit from having someone he could actually talk to. When he slipped into bed, he felt an unfamiliar feeling. He did not recognize it at first, but just before he was pulled into oblivion it came to him.   
  
Happiness.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
It hit Hermione as she was walking back to the Gryffindor common room that it was the first time she had ever seen Malfoy smile. *I mean, Draco.*   
  
Calling him by his first name was going to take some getting used to. If she was shocked to find out who she had been writing to, and even more shocked that she actually wanted to be his friend, hearing him call her "Hermione" almost sent her into a coma. By then she was physically unable to convey the feeling of shock, but she still felt it.   
  
And coming from him, it had sounded extremely pleasant. His voice seemed to add something when speaking her name. It was something warm and soft but she did not know how to put a single word to it.   
  
She wondered what having Malfoy- Draco for a friend would be like. She had never considered the possibility. Well…she could not imagine. She would have to wait and see.   
  
For the first time in her life, she was looking forward to seeing Draco Malfoy.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron lay awake long into the night, listening to Harry snore softly. Very softly. He almost let out a tiny laugh, but he held it in. The Boy Who Lived, snoring in bed was one of his more humorous recent thoughts.   
  
He thought about Harry more than he wanted to. He worried about him, because he had heard some of the nightmares Harry had. He knew that Harry unnecessarily carried the world on his shoulders.   
  
And he hated himself for wanting-   
  
At that moment, Seamus came in. It was much later than the Irish boy usually stayed up. Usually he was sleeping like a log by this time. Ron pulled aside one of his curtains. "Where have you been?" he whispered.   
  
"Nowhere," Seamus whispered back. "Just go to sleep." He climbed into bed and pulled the hangings closed.   
  
Sighing, Ron leaned back against his pillows. He heard some strange murmuring from Seamus and knew he had just fallen asleep as well. Was he the only one who couldn't sleep? Why the hell did this have to happen to him?   
  
End Chapter 6  
  
I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to read this. Or, at least waiting.   
  
I'm not sure. I like some parts of this chapter more than others. See if you can guess why Malfoy finds it ironic that it's Hermione. I'm gonna copy another author and say don't put it in your review, email it to me, so you don't spoil the surprise. This is one of those really really easy to guess things, so take a shot. My email's in my author profile.   
  
Please review. 


	8. Parchment Talk

Chapter 7- Parchment Talk  
  
The next night, Hermione trudged through the portrait hole after an awkward talk with Malf…Draco. They were having a hard time talking the way they would in the letters directly to each other's faces. She still felt the meeting was worthwhile, but M…Draco said he would have preferred a detention with Harry. Well, he said *Potter*.   
  
After saying that she was insulted by his remark, he apologized and said he wasn't serious. They had said goodbye a minute later.   
  
The scene Hermione walked in on was, to say the least, complete pandemonium. Everyone in the common room was yelling, gathered around two boys apparently fighting, rooting for neither but enjoying the fight. Some seemed to be yelling for them to stop. One in particular- Ginny Weasley.   
  
Hermione pushed her way through the crowd in time to see Harry dragging Ron off of Seamus. "You bloody bastard! You traitor! You-"   
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried. "What is going on here?"   
  
"I just found Seamus here on top of Ginny-"   
  
"We weren't *doing* anything, Ron," Ginny said exasperatedly.   
  
"You kissed!"   
  
"Well, that's true, but-"   
  
"You shouldn't be kissing older boys in the middle of the common room!" Ron roared. Ginny covered her ears and sat on the back of the nearest couch.   
  
"Ron," Hermione began. "You're a prefect. You're supposed to be setting a good example for the younger students. You can't just go beating someone up every time you see someone doing something with Ginny."   
  
"Oh?" Ron's eyes flashed angrily. His face was completely red and his breathing was deep and haggard. "And how many times should I expect to see something like that?"   
  
Hermione covered her mouth. "I didn't mean it that way! I just meant, you can't jump to conclusions. And even if you could jump to a conclusion, Ginny can make her own decisions. She would never let anyone take advantage of her. *And* you're a prefect."   
  
Harry stood holding one of Ron's arms. Ron did not seem to want to shake him off, but he shot Seamus glares that would have sent him to the seventeenth circle of Hell, had there been one. Seamus sat on the floor, rubbing his neck where Ron had just barely managed a death grip before Harry pulled him away. "Seamus, maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey. Just to make sure."   
  
He nodded. Ginny helped him to his feet. "I'll go with you. Oh, shut up, Ron, I'm going and you can't do anything about it." Ginny rolled her eyes toward Hermione and she and Seamus left.   
  
"Ron, you have to learn to control yourself. Ginny would not do anything she shouldn't."   
  
"She shouldn't be kissing my roommates," he muttered.   
  
"Fine, if you're not going to listen to me. Harry, why don't you try to talk some sense into him." She stalked off to her room.   
  
Homework was a lost cause, she discovered about an hour later when she had only written two feet of her essay. She was too distracted, thinking about Draco. She was very frustrated with herself for not being about to do her homework.   
  
Ginny bounced in, a rather silly mixture of happiness and outrage on her face. She plopped down on Hermione's bed. "Madame Pomfrey is making Seamus stay in the hospital wing. She says it would be safer than in the dorm."   
  
Hermione agreed. "So how did he end up on top of you?"   
  
Ginny blushed. "It's stupid."   
  
"Tell me."   
  
"Well…we were wrestling, okay? Don't ask why, I can't remember. Anyway, he won, and I was giving him a congratulatory kiss when Ron came in. He attacked him without thinking. Merlin, sometimes I hate my brother."   
  
Hermione had kept one eyebrow raised through the whole thing. "Wrestling?"   
  
"Leave me alone, Hermione."   
  
"No, I think it's cute."   
  
Ginny laughed. "I guess. I really like Seamus."   
  
"I was wondering whatever happened to Dean."   
  
"Dean, please," Ginny said, gesturing in a dismissive way. "After a month we agreed not to go out. We just weren't really interested in each other."   
  
Hermione looked down at her Charms essay. She needed at least half a foot more. She should be done by now. "Forget the homework, Hermione. Let's go have some fun."  
  
Later, Hermione had to admit that she did have fun.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"This is ridiculous," Draco said suddenly. It was a week since their second meeting, and they were once again sitting silently in the Room of Requirement. "We need to get past this."   
  
Suddenly a stack of parchment sat in front of them, with two bottles of ink and two black quills. Hermione's ink was red, while his was green.   
  
~* D: There. Now we can talk like we usually do, only it won't take so long to get a response. Is that better?   
  
H: This is going to look like Christmas.   
  
D: Hmm. You're right.   
  
H: How is this the way we usually do?  
  
D: It's not. That's the point. This is talking how we would if we could actually talk to each other. If we can learn to do it on paper, then we can progress to normal conversation. Got it?  
  
H: Oh. Well, that makes sense.  
  
D: Of course it does.   
  
H: What does that mean?  
  
D: It means it's my idea, why wouldn't it make sense?  
  
H: Arrogance is *not* a virtue.  
  
D: Oh, sure, you can talk, miss "I'm smarter than anyone at this school".  
  
H: I do *not* think that.   
  
D: You act like it.   
  
H: I hadn't noticed.   
  
D: Apparently.   
  
H:…  
  
D: Okay, enough of this. Why don't we really talk?   
  
H: Only if you promise not to spread rumors. I mean, everyone's going to find out anyway, but…you know.   
  
D: What?  
  
H: Nevermind.  
  
D: I meant, what happened that everyone's going to find out.  
  
H: I know what you meant. You don't have to go explaining things to me. I can understand perfectly well.   
  
D: There's more than one thing I could have meant.   
  
H: Oh, stop trying to rationalize your mistakes.   
  
D: Argument on paper.   
  
H: You already proved that point. This is different, anyway. This is not a series of letters.   
  
D: Thank you for pointing that out, Hermione. I had not noticed, myself.   
  
H: I am now rolling my eyes.   
  
D: I saw.  
  
H: And I saw you rolling yours.   
  
D: I don't think we're really getting anywhere here.   
  
H: I don't either.  
  
D: Maybe you should tell me.  
  
H: Tell you what?   
  
D: That thing that happened.   
  
H: Oh. Ginny's going with Seamus. Ron almost killed him when he found out.   
  
D: I would laugh right now, but I like the silence in the room.   
  
H: I'm not sure how I feel about it.   
  
D: The silence?   
  
H: …or anything.   
  
D: I'm not sure I know what you mean.   
  
H: Everything, Draco. This whole thing. Us. I guess. I mean, I still like you, but I just don't know.   
  
D: So you think we should just forget the whole thing?   
  
H: NO! Draco, I don't mean that. I want to keep this going. I just can't see how it's going to work out in the end, and that…scares me.*~  
  
Draco looked up at Hermione when he read this. She was staring at the table.   
  
~* D: Look at me, Hermione.*~  
  
She looked up. He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster. She smiled weakly back. He sent her a look that said, "It will turn out all right. No one can tell us who to be friends with. I want to be friends with you probably more than you do with me, and I won't let anyone take you away."   
  
~* H: Thank you, Draco.  
  
D: You're welcome. You're the only real friend I've ever had, and I will fight to keep you that way. Not the only one. I mean as a friend.   
  
H: I'm glad to know that. I would fight for you as well, now that I know you.   
  
D: That's good.   
  
H: Hey!  
  
D: What did I do now?   
  
H: Nothing. I just realized that I've been calling you Draco without thinking about it for the past week.   
  
D: I'm laughing on the inside. *~  
  
Hermione looked up to see his grin. She swatted at him, barely brushing his shoulder with her fingertips. A slight warmth spread through him at her touch.   
  
~* H: Why do I feel so comfortable around you?  
  
D: Probably because you know everything about me.   
  
H: Not everything.   
  
D: What don't you know?  
  
H: You know. Stuff like favorite color, favorite food, longest book you've ever read, you know.   
  
D: I meant the important things. Black, fudge, I don't keep track of the lengths of books I read. What about you?   
  
H: I know what you *meant*, but since you didn't specify I decided to take it literally. Emerald, raspberries, 'Alternate Magic'.  
  
D: What was it about?   
  
H: Magic other than what we learn in school. You know, no wands, no potions…other things.   
  
D: What else is there?   
  
H: Well, sometimes you can do a spell without a wand. And then, well, maybe I shouldn't get into that now. We can talk about it some other time. It also talks about magical items that augment your power.   
  
D: Well, I thought that was what wands were for.   
  
H: No, wands direct your power. It's true, without your own wand you don't have as much power, but that's just because of compatibility. But your wand does not give you more power than you already have.   
  
D: Interesting.   
  
H: You're not being sarcastic, are you?   
  
D: No.   
  
H: Oh, okay. Well, what else?   
  
D: What?   
  
H: I want to know about you. *~  
  
They spent the next three sheets of parchment telling each other every little thing about themselves. Draco was surprised to learn that Hermione's lowest grade was, in fact, a fail. She also said it wasn't her fault. She had already chosen names for a son and a daughter, but she refused to tell him what they were. She was not sure what she wanted to do after school but she thought that teaching sounded like fun.   
  
~* D: Does it?  
  
H: Well, yes. You don't think so?   
  
D: Not really. Sitting in a class with a bunch of eleven year olds?  
  
H: Not all the teachers have a first year class.   
  
D: Still. *~  
  
And he told her that he wanted to work in the Ministry, something to do with Dark Magic, but he was not sure he wanted to actually be an Auror.   
  
~* H: Are there any other jobs relating to Dark Magic?   
  
D: I'll make one up.   
  
H: You can't just make up a new job for yourself.   
  
D: Why not?  
  
H: It just doesn't work like that.   
  
D: There'll probably be something by the end of next year.   
  
H: Maybe. *~  
  
He told her that his father had named his (Draco's) owl Rasputin, he didn't really like the name but the bird wouldn't respond to anything else.   
  
~* H: Sounds a little like Pig.   
  
D: Pig?   
  
H: Ron's owl. Ginny named him Pigwidgeon. *~  
  
He told her that liked being at Hogwarts a lot better than being at home. He told her about his house, the garden out in back with all the rosebushes. He said he'd try to get his mother to send him some to show her. He told her all the little things that he never told anybody because nobody seemed to care.   
  
He realized that nobody knew him at all.   
  
Well, his mother did, but that was different.   
  
Nobody knew anything about him, except for Hermione.   
  
She knew. And she liked him. Did that mean that if people like Potter and Weasley knew him, they would like him? Not necessarily. He did not quite relish the thought of having them as friends, anyway.   
  
But he did like having Hermione as a friend.   
  
~* H: It's really late!   
  
D: It doesn't matter.   
  
H: Come on, Draco. We can't be out of our dorms much later than this.   
  
D: All right, all right, let's go.   
  
H: Wait.   
  
D: What now?   
  
H: Thank you.   
  
D: No, Hermione. Thank you. *~   
  
The same hand-holding routine happened, a little longer this time, and then she had gone out the door with one last- was that confused?- glance back at him.   
  
End Chapter 7   
  
Thank you everyone who reviewed! I love you to teeny tiny bits! Really! Very very small.   
  
Please Review 


	9. Gemstone Gray

Chapter 8- Gemstone Gray  
  
*Describe in two feet the effects of the Broken Heart Solution on any person already in love.*   
  
Hermione checked over her essay one more time before nodding with satisfaction and tucking it away. She pulled another book closer and began to flip through the pages.   
  
It was Saturday. The next day was Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, and Katie Bell had the entire team down at the Quidditch pitch for the entire day. Almost the entire remainder of the school- from the third years on- were in Hogsmeade. The village was not as appealing to her without Harry and Ron there, and she found the resulting quiet to be perfect homework conditions.   
  
A bit later on, Hermione was strolling the hallways for lack of anything better to do. Under one of the rather randomly placed trees in the large field near the lake sat a lone, blond-haired figure. Slightly puzzled, Hermione made her way out of the castle.   
  
"Hi," she said, stopping a little away from him. "What are you doing here?"   
  
Draco looked up at her before repositioning his head to stare into nothing. "Sitting."   
  
"I can see that." She moved closer and sat beside him. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"   
  
"Why aren't you?"   
  
"Well, I didn't have anyone to go with, and I thought I should get started on my homework. Now you."   
  
"I didn't want to." He saw her expectant look and sighed. "I've seen everything there is to see in Hogsmeade. There isn't any reason to go anymore, unless I had something to shop for, which I don't."   
  
"Good reason." He looked sharply at her, but his face softened into a smile. She loved his smile. "Why can't you smile more often?"   
  
"I can when I'm around you," he replied. He picked at the grass next to him, tearing up the blades with vigor. "I don't know. Why should I start now?"   
  
"Why shouldn't you?"   
  
"We're not doing this now."   
  
"Not doing what, exactly?"   
  
"This. This is not talking. This is repeating what the other just said, pretending not to argue. I'm not doing it."   
  
Hermione looked carefully at him. "All right. What do you want to talk about?"   
  
Draco was silent for some time. At last he picked a paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "My mother wrote to me again this morning. The usual 'oh, my darling Draco, I miss you so much. I wish you were here. Life at the Manor is so dull without you' and all that bloody stuff."   
  
"Don't swear," Hermione said absently as she scanned the letter.   
  
"Then she mentioned something, a surprise my father has for me. That's the part I'm worried about. She doesn't know what it is, and I'm afraid to guess. Knowing him it will probably be something like 'Guess what, son? I'm only going to cane you once this summer.' But mother either chooses to ignore it, or is not as smart as I would like to think." He smirked. "I've got some surprises for him, too."   
  
Hermione stared at him. "Cane you once? Are you saying he- he *beats* you?"   
  
"Hermione, don't. It's not a big deal."   
  
"Yes, it is! He can't get away with this! It's child abuse!"   
  
"Hermione, don't! I don't want anyone to know."   
  
"But *I* know."   
  
"I trust you. But you're the only one. Please, just don't tell."   
  
"I don't feel right, knowing this and doing nothing about it."   
  
"It's all right, Hermione. I can handle it. Anyway, this is the last summer I'm going back there, so it won't be so bad. I'll probably just denounce him sometime in July."   
  
"Well, what about- money, and things like that?"   
  
"I have my own account. My mother opened it for me. I've been putting money in it without them knowing since I was thirteen. I'll have enough to live on until I can get a job."   
  
"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry."   
  
Neither of them said anything for what seemed the longest time.   
  
"Listen, Hermione, I've been thinking. It's probably not a good idea for anyone to know…about our…friendship. Too many problems will come up. At least, not yet."   
  
Hermione nodded sadly. "I agree with you. I was trying to think of a way to bring it up."   
  
They smiled at each other again. Perhaps she just noticed it more because she never saw him smile otherwise, but it seemed to her that she smiled more with Draco than with Harry and Ron.   
  
"Too bad this has to be so hard," Hermione said. "You really are a great friend." It was the simple and honest truth. For the past few weeks, he had been.   
  
After another moment of silence, they got to talking about trivial things, like they did sometimes. They ended up laughing about a very unexplainable incident in Defense class. Somehow, Neville had ended up spinning all around the room. When he stopped, his head was upside down with a comical grin plastered on. As sickening as Hermione had found it then, it now seemed to be hilarious.   
  
It was getting close to the time when students would be returning from Hogsmeade. Hermione stood, brushing herself off. "I should go."   
  
"Wait." Draco rose quickly beside her, not bothering to brush off the dirt. He caught her arm above the elbow as she was taking a step. She turned and gazed up at him. In that moment, she froze. "You won't tell?"   
  
At first she barely heard his question. She was too busy looking into his eyes. They held pain, hope, fear, and something else that she could not quite place. They were the most extraordinary eyes she had ever seen. They were gray, as she had always known, but the many different shades of gray made them appear multifaceted, and they shone with an inner light she had never seen before. If a gemstone ever happened to be gray, it would look exactly like Draco's eyes.   
  
"Hermione? You won't tell?" His grip had tightened. She winced slightly.   
  
"Let me go, Draco." They stood, staring at each other for an agonizingly long three seconds, and he loosened his grip on her arm.   
  
"I'm sorry," he said, turning away.   
  
"No," and this time she caught *his* arm. "Don't worry about it." His smile suffused his eyes with warmth. "No, I won't tell anyone."   
  
He regarded her for a moment before nodding. He sat back under the tree, crunching dry leaves in his fist, as she went back up to the castle.   
  
"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called as she entered the common room. "Where've you been?"   
  
She shrugged. "I was doing homework, and then I went for a walk." It was the truth, if stretched.   
  
"You went for a walk for three hours?" Ginny commented, pointing to the clock.   
  
Hermione's eyes flickered to the time for a split second. "Yes, I did." She joined them on the floor. "So what's happening?"   
  
"Chess tournament," Ron said, nodding to Harry and Seamus, who were both intensely studying the chessboard as their pieces called out hints. "We're trying to determine who's the Gryffindor champion. Care to join?"   
  
"No, thanks, I'll watch." She and Ginny exchanged looks. Ginny broke into a fit of giggles, interrupting Harry and Seamus's concentration. They nodded to each other, then both lunged at Ginny. Harry held her arms while Seamus tickled her mercilessly. She gasped at them to stop. They did for a minute to let her catch her breath. Then the tickling started anew.   
  
Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She gave him warning look. He took a few menacing steps forward. "Ron, don't!" He grinned wickedly. He was standing over her, and she had just prepared to whip out her wand when he turned to pounce on Ginny. She shrieked louder as two more hands joined in the tickling.   
  
Hermione was very ticklish herself, and sometimes she even found it fun to be tickled, but she was most definitely not in the mood. Still, she felt a bit envious at Ginny's ability to be the center of attention at all times. That is, since last year, when she had started talking around Harry.   
  
"I'm going to go upstairs, guys," she said, not expecting them to hear. "Good night."   
  
"Hey, wait! Why don't you stay down here and join the fun? You don't have to do homework *now*, do you?" Ron pleaded. He made a sad puppy face at her. Laughing, she made as if to continue up the stairs.   
  
In another moment, she turned and ran toward them, jumping on top of Ron. They grappled for longer than she expected to hold out. Finally, Ron pinned her hands above her head, straddling her stomach. She laughed. Now she understood why Ginny liked wrestling with Seamus. It was simple, really.   
  
It was *fun*.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
There was nothing else for Draco to do. He headed up to the owlery and wrote a response to his mother.   
  
*Everything's fine here. Tell father, I don't care what the surprise is, I don't want it. He can throw it in a river for all I care.*  
  
Calling Rasputin down, he tied the note to his leg. "Bring this right to mum, okay, Ras? If she's not there, don't let my father take it."   
  
Rasputin hooted in response and soared out the window. Pulling his cloak a little closer against the chill wind, he leaned against the sill, watching his beautiful eagle owl disappear in flight. His father had named him, but his grandfather had picked him out. The only thing his father's father ever did for him. Then he had died.   
  
Everything was dying. It was the end of November. The trees appeared to miss their leaves terribly, looking naked and exposed without them. The lake looked darker than it did during the summer, when the squid's tentacles could be seen searching the lake at almost all times. The Forbidden Forest looked, well, forbidden. It always did, but it was always worse in the winter.   
  
Draco hated to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid of the Forest. It wasn't because of all the rumors and the beasts. That was only part of it. That didn't really matter to him. He had the most horrible experience in a forest at the age of three. Ever since he had hated them. He found himself slipping into the memory. Desperately trying to pull out of it, he braced himself against the window as he was sucked in.   
  
^*^ Why was he in the forest? He couldn't remember going in. He was all alone, without his mother or his father, and he did not know where his cloak was. Tears stung at his young eyes, but "Malfoys don't cry" so he blinked them away. He began to wander through the forest, trying to find his way back home.   
  
It grew colder suddenly, and he soon realized why. He had stepped into a clearing. The trees were no longer blocking the harsh November wind. It seemed darker here than among the trees, for some reason. His eyes did not take in the scene until he was standing in the middle of the clearing. By then it was too late to turn back.   
  
Dark-robed, masked figures stood in a circle around him. They faced straight ahead, completely still, as though waiting for something. A man robed the same way stepped forward. "I did not expect you, Draco. You have walked in on something you should not have seen."   
  
"Father? Where are we? Who are they?"   
  
"You are not to know these things. At least, not yet. But you must learn a lesson. You must learn not to stumble upon things that are not your business."   
  
Being only three years old at the time, Draco had no idea what his father was talking about. It was not until he saw his father aiming his wand that he thought something was wrong.   
  
"Crucio!"   
  
At once a sledgehammer of pain hit him, wracking his small body. He cried out and bit his lip so hard he drew blood. At first he could hear the protests of the other occupants of the clearing. He was just a child, he did not know what he was doing. But after a while his own screams drowned out any other sound. Utter agony gripped him, and he curled into a ball on the ground.   
  
His muscles relaxed slightly when the curse was dropped. He felt weak. He had never imagined such pain could exist, but apparently… "Next time you see something you should not, you will feel the curse at its full force. Am I clear?"   
  
Draco could not speak. He lay prone on the ground, unable to move to help himself, or for any other reason. His father took his face roughly with one hand and forced him to look into his eyes. His father's blue eyes, he could see through the mask, were cold and unloving. "I said, am I clear?"   
  
Fearing for his life, Draco managed a weak, "Yes."   
  
The figures dispersed, many muttering to themselves or each other about the shocking use of the curse. Draco felt some of his strength returning, and stood shakily. He looked around slowly. The clearing was empty except for his father. "Come along, Draco."   
  
For a moment, the three year old did nothing. He stared at his father. When Lucius Malfoy took a step forward, Draco's fear kicked in. His father was blasted off his feet, backward across the clearing. Taking this opportunity, Draco took off into the woods, his fear lending him the strength to run.   
  
He did not know how long he ran before his foot caught on a tree root. He fell to the ground, just barely catching himself. He lay there for quite a while, sobbing and shaking, until two of the family house elves came to retrieve him.   
  
After this incident, he left the room whenever his father drew his wand, until the age of six. He could not stay in the same room as Lucius for months. His mother kept asking what was wrong, but he could only shake his head and stare into the floor. He never went into any forest again, if he could avoid it. ^*^  
  
Later he learned that the people in the clearing were most of the Death Eaters who had not been caught. They were deciding what to do about Voldemort's sudden defeat. He also discovered that very few of them approved of what his father did to him that night.   
  
His cheeks felt strange. His eyes stung. Reaching up, he felt the wetness glistening there. Cursing, he wiped all trace of tears from his face. He turned to go just as Harry Potter entered. *Just my luck,* Draco thought wryly.   
  
"Out of my way, Potter," he snarled. He hastened out before Potter had the chance to respond. He might like Hermione, but he could never, ever be friends with Harry Potter.   
  
End Chapter 8   
  
Wow, guys. The reviews come fast for this story. I get more reviews per chapter for this story than any other. And I love you guys. I'm so glad you like this story. Really.   
  
I'm in a fix. Or whatever you want to call it. I need some help. I cannot remember whether Hermione's wand was described in the books, and if so which book, etc. I'm not going to go looking through them all, I want the description for chapter 11. If anyone happens to know, could you please mention it in your review? Thanks!!   
  
Please Review. I'll be forever grateful. Forever. And ever. And ever… wow that's a long time. 


	10. A Boy's Kiss

Chapter 9- A Boy's Kiss  
  
*Dear Professor Lupin*   
  
Harry scratched out the first line immediately, discarding the parchment. "Professor Lupin" just didn't seem right anymore. He had not been their teacher for three years, and last year…Harry felt closer to the man now, probably because he was the last of the Marauders. After a moment of hesitation, Harry started the letter over.   
  
*Dear Remus,   
  
I hope you don't mind I called you Remus. I just don't know what else to call you.   
  
I'm writing because I want to know what's going on. I've heard no word of Voldemort from anyone, nothing's been in the papers. Even the Slytherins aren't gloating about Muggle-born killings. I'm in the dark here, what's happening? What is Voldemort planning?   
  
On a side note- how are you? I hope you're well…I'm doing okay, grades are fine, Quidditch is going really well. Snape is still the same old- well, you know what he's like. The new Defense teacher is something. I think he's older than Dumbledore, and he knows everything. Not as good a teacher as you, though.   
  
~Harry*   
  
After looking over the letter, Harry decided that it was alright to send. He pulled a sweater over his faded black t-shirt and headed up to the owlery.   
  
Malfoy was there, standing next to the window, suspiciously wiping something from his face. He turned and stiffened, his eyes turning cold. "Out of my way, Potter," he snapped, stalking past him.   
  
Once Malfoy had left, Harry shook his head. He would never be able to stand that git. Directing his train of thought to sending the letter, he looked up in search of Hedwig. He easily spotted her snowy white form among the many-shaded owls. She swooped gracefully onto his arm, and waited patiently for him to attach the letter. "To Lupin, okay?"   
  
She nipped his finger affectionately, then flew off to deliver the letter. Harry left for the dorms again, eager to sleep after the rigorous Quidditch practice that day. Thoughts of the next day's game set butterflies all around his stomach. He tried to divert his thoughts once more, and they wandered to someone he had been thinking of more often than he knew why lately.   
  
The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig descended on him with a reply from Lupin.   
  
*Harry-   
  
Just Remus is fine. I was wondering when you'd stop calling me "Professor Lupin". As far as we know, Voldemort's not making any moves. Will try to give you as much information as I can. You should be concentrating on school, anyway, not Voldemort. Sorry, not enough time to write a proper letter. I'm fine, by the way.   
  
~Remus*   
  
Harry made a sound of frustration that startled Ron. "What is it?"   
  
He passed Lupin's note to his red-haired friend, who scanned it quickly. "I don't get it, Harry. What's the problem."   
  
"We're being left out of the loop, I know it. Why do you think Remus didn't have enough time to write back in full sentences? They're doing something, they've got to be, but no one wants to include me in anything. Don't they realize what I'm going to have to-"   
  
He broke off there. He had not yet told Ron what he would have to do to stop Voldemort, and did not think this would be the best time to tell him. He glanced at Ron. For some reason, he looked pained.   
  
"You don't need this, Harry. We're going up against Ravenclaw today. You've got to concentrate on the match. This is for the Cup, remember? Because it's not like Hufflepuff will be able to do anything against us…"   
  
Harry smiled gratefully at his friend, knowing that he was right. He looked at Hermione curiously for the tenth time that morning. "Hermione, are you all right? Why aren't you talking?"   
  
"Yeah, shouldn't you be yelling at us for not having studied for N.E.W.T.s yet?" Ron teased. Harry grinned briefly at this, but sobered quickly.   
  
"Come on, you can talk to us."   
  
"It's nothing, all right? Good- good luck today."   
  
"You're coming to watch, aren't you?"   
  
"Oh- no," she said, giving both Ron and Harry a pleading look. "Don't get mad! I already promised. I have to do something."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Just something."   
  
"It can't be more important than Quidditch."   
  
"Oh, Ron, your priorities are hopeless." She sighed and collected her books. "I'll see you guys later."   
  
Ron watched her leave, shaking his head just slightly. "Sometimes I just don't know about her."   
  
Harry, after a moment, burst out laughing at this. Ron eyed him mock-fearfully, then joined him. Ginny found them this way when she moved down the table.   
  
"I don't want to know what you're laughing at. I just came to tell you Katie wants us down at the pitch in fifteen minutes." She turned on her heel and left, throwing one last glance back at them.   
  
"We should go," Harry said, rising. The butterflies fluttered in his stomach again.   
  
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, as though sensing his feelings. "You're going to do great. Like always."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron was not sure he could hold out much longer. The Ravenclaw Chasers were tougher than he had been giving them credit for. They had just scored three consecutive times, and he was losing concentration.   
  
He was relieved when he realized that the game was over. He smiled down at Harry, clutching the snitch in his fist. *Knew you could do it, mate.* He flew down on top of him and joined the team in enveloping him in a crushing hug.   
  
"Good show, Ron!" Harry yelled above the cheers of the crowd.   
  
"You were better," Ron replied. Harry grinned. They headed toward the showers with the rest of the team.   
  
Once again, he found himself wondering where Hermione was. *Probably studying and was too embarrassed to admit it,* he thought. Then again, when had Hermione ever bee embarrassed to be studying?   
  
Harry shouldered his broom. "I'll be in the owlery, mate. See if I can't get any answers out of Lupin."   
  
"Not this again," Ron groaned. "Harry, you've got to get your mind off Voldemort. It's all you ever think about these days. Why can't you just relax, Harry? We're only sixteen, there's no reason for us to worry about it. We've been caught up in these things for almost every year at Hogwarts, but it wasn't necessarily our fault. Now, you're going to go *looking* for trouble?"   
  
Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again a moment later. He shook his head and left.   
  
Ron sighed. No matter how hard he tried, Voldemort was Harry's main topic of thought. Sometimes Ron wondered, sarcastically of course, when they would be announcing their engagement.   
  
"Is Harry gone already?" Katie asked. Ron nodded. "Damn. I wanted to talk to him about…well, that's a surprise," she said, winking. "Oh well, I'll get him next time."   
  
Ron walked up to Gryffindor Tower alone, because it was a choice between solitude and walking with Ginny and Seamus. Though he was now able to refrain from killing Seamus, seeing them together made him want to throttle the guy. He almost felt sorry for him. He was glad, only because of this, that being a prefect got him a private room. He would hate to wake up one day to find that he had sleep-murdered Seamus.   
  
As he walked, his thoughts returned to his best friend. Harry was hopelessly obsessed with carrying the world on his shoulders. Ron wanted to make him see that others would help him bear this burden, but Harry did not want to burden others. He had integrity, and was quite kind, but proud as all hell. He would not let anyone help him unless it was not his choice.   
  
Sighing again, Ron flopped facedown on his bed. He would have fallen asleep immediately if it wasn't for the gnawing hole in his stomach. Groaning slightly, he pushed himself up and trudged off toward the kitchens.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione glanced at the clock. "I think the Quidditch match is about over."   
  
Draco followed her gaze. *Damn. Hermione's too careful, she won't stay any longer because we 'might get caught'.* "All right. We can go, I suppose." He stood, offering her an hand up.   
  
"It was nice talking to you again," she smiled. "You promise you'll have the roses in three weeks?"   
  
"Yeah. They're a magical kind of rose. They bloom in the summer and in the winter only. Usually they start in the middle of December for the winter season."   
  
"All right. I look forward to it, greatly." She smiled at him again as she left.   
  
Hermione smiled a lot. It was one of the things he noticed about her. Since fourth year, when she had her teeth fixed, she had the most beautiful smile. He was glad she showed it to him so often. He himself smiled more often with her than he had in his entire life.   
  
Draco fell back onto the fluffy ground cushion, sighing. He wished he had one of these at home. When he had gone to the Room this time, he had thought, *I need a place to be completely comfortable*. The most cloudlike cushions had been on the ground when he entered, as had Hermione, of course, looking surprised at the sudden change in the room. She had not hesitated to sink into one of the cushions herself, sighing with pleasure as she did. Draco had smiled amusedly at her, and she had threatened to give him a permanent smile, which had only caused him to smile wider.   
  
What he needed right then, was a way to tell Hermione his feelings, his deepest feelings, that were the only things he hid from her. When he thought this, a thin slip of parchment fell into his hand. It read, "Request not operable."   
  
He almost laughed at this. A room was telling him that his wishes were hopeless. He supposed they were.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry woke, knowing it was very late. His roommates were snoring loudly- or, one of them was. It reverberated through the room, coming from all directions. Harry shook his head at the culprit, whoever it was. The snore, however, was not what had woken him.   
  
Something was not right. Not exactly *wrong*, just not exactly as it should be. Harry, wondering what could be causing this feeling, decided to go ask Ron what he thought. Ron, however, was not in his room. Surprised, Harry sat down in the hall to think.   
  
After a few minutes of this, to no avail, he headed to the bathroom. He heard odd sounds from behind the door. Pushing it open slightly, he peeked in. Ron was sitting next to the door with his back to the wall, his red hair plain even in the dark. The sounds seemed to be coming from Ron.   
  
"Ron?" Harry said quietly. "What's happening?"   
  
"Nothing," Ron said gruffly. Harry slipped in, locking the door behind him. This did not seem like something they would want someone to interrupt.   
  
"Are you crying?"   
  
"No." Ron would not turn to face him, and both hands hid his face from Harry.   
  
"Come on," Harry said worriedly. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"   
  
"No!" Ron was clearly irritated now.   
  
Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, facing his friend. Ron looked up in surprise. It was still dark in the bathroom, but Harry didn't mind. He could see well enough, since he had his glasses.   
  
"What are you doing?" Ron asked.   
  
"Sitting," Harry replied. "Not against the law, is it? I won't get a detention for sitting in the bathroom?"   
  
Ron smiled weakly and shook his head. Harry saw clearly that Ron *had* been crying, no matter what he said. Harry had some idea what it might be about.   
  
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a crush, would it?"   
  
Looking up in alarm, Ron answered, "How did you know?"   
  
"Well, I've seen you around lately. How could it be anything but a crush?" Harry grinned knowingly as he said this, but his heart went out to his friend as he remembered how he had felt toward Cho for so long. "Remember, I had the biggest crush a guy could not wish for."   
  
"It's different," Ron said immediately.   
  
"How?"   
  
"Well, I- you- oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."   
  
"Wouldn't I?"   
  
Ron did not meet Harry's gaze. They sat in silence, Harry pondering what Ron could mean, Ron looking like he wanted nothing more in the world than for Harry to go away. After a while, Harry began to fathom Ron's meaning. It *was* different for Ron. Ron did not like someone like Cho… in fact, the person Harry thought Ron was talking about was nothing like Cho Chang at all.   
  
Harry had never considered the possibility before. Now that he thought about it…why not? There was no reason why Ron should not have a crush on his best friend. There was more to it, however. Before Harry could stop himself, he had begun to lean forward.   
  
Ron froze at first. When Harry's lips touched his, he felt Ron lean into the kiss slightly. It was gentle and not long at all. When Harry pulled away, they both smiled. Suddenly, though, Harry was blushing like mad. Not knowing what else to say, he stood and stumbled back to his bed.   
  
He decided he liked kissing a certain boy.   
  
End Chapter 9  
  
If you read the summary, you *should* have been expecting that. But, hey, some people are just slow. No, I'm just kidding, I love every one of you.   
  
Spectre Ithilien- First of all I'd like to say I love your name. It's so…mystical. Anyway, I liked your review, you went into what you liked about it. I appreciated that. And you know, I'm glad you noticed that about Draco. :)  
  
Nowwwwwwww go review. Please? 


	11. Straightening It Out

Chapter 10- Straightening It Out  
  
Thoroughly annoyed with the amount of time it was taking to brush her hair, Hermione had browbeaten Ginny into teaching her those hair-dressing spells. Hermione had been surprised to learn that Ginny made them up herself.   
  
Sitting at lunch the day after the Quidditch match, she secretly enjoyed the surprised looks directed her way by almost every student, and many of the teachers. Her hair was still thicker than any two girls' combined, but now it was smooth and soft, and she could actually run her fingers through it without getting them caught. Even Ron had noticed the change. Of course, he had responded by gaping across the table at her, until she finally said, "Oh, Ron, for Merlin's sake. Close your mouth."   
  
Her favorite moment of the day thus far, however, had been Draco's reaction. She noticed him entering the Great Hall at breakfast, and caught his eye. He had only looked for as long as he dared, throwing her a subtle smile, but she saw him continuously glancing her way.   
  
"Why do we have to have potions next?" Ron complained.   
  
"Because the world is cruel," Harry muttered. Ron sniggered at the comment, but when he caught Harry's eye, they both looked away awkwardly. Hermione would have asked what was wrong if they had more time. As it was, she gathered her books and hurried them off toward the dungeons.   
  
Snape had them working individually that day, on a rather complicated personality potion. Hermione got to work with her ingredients, glancing at Ron and Harry constantly from the corner of her eye. They barely looked at each other, when typically they would be passing notes or communicating soundlessly by trying to read each other's lips. Sighing, she looked across both of them, where Draco was working, and rolled her eyes. He smirked knowingly at the boys.   
  
*Maybe not knowingly. Probably just seems that way because I have no idea what is going on.*   
  
At the end of an hour, Hermione's potion had turned a lovely shade of purple, and she added the dried caterpillar legs. She watched as the liquid turned a deep bloodred, and stirred four times counterclockwise before letting it sit. Another half an hour went by, and a little of the purple tint began to show through. Hermione put out her fire and scooped a sample of her potion, placing it on Snape's desk.   
  
Draco, it appeared, had finished just when she did, his potion the exact same shade of purplish red as hers. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he twisted his mouth in an attempt not to smile. They returned to their seats without a word.   
  
When the bell rang, the Gryffindors- all that were taking the N.E.W.T. class, that is- rushed from the dungeons. Hermione smiled quickly at Draco before leaving, but her mind switched back to her older friends once in the halls.   
  
"All right, what is going on?"   
  
"Nothing, Hermione," Harry said glumly.   
  
"I know you two. It's not nothing. You didn't have a fight, did you?"   
  
"No, nothing like that."   
  
"Well, what then?"   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged swift glances. "It's sort of private," Ron supplied.   
  
"Well, whatever it is, you guys had better straighten out your problems soon. I refuse to repeat fourth year again." She quickened her step, leaving them behind in the hallway.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Whoever's brilliant idea it was to give us Double Potions on Monday *and* Friday, I would so very much love to strangle them."  
  
Harry laughed at Ron's statement as they sat down close to Hermione. Hermione, unsurprisingly, was already deep into studying. "I believe that brilliant person was Snape."   
  
"Oh. Then I take that back. I would be positively thrilled to strangle him." Harry nodded in assent. He would also love to strangle Snape.   
  
"But Professor McGonagall does the schedules, so it was both of them, really."   
  
"In that case," Ron said, "I'll let McGonagall live, but strangle Snape twice." Hermione rolled her eyes but did not look up. She was intent on her work, but she was not doing any homework they had recently been assigned.   
  
"Um, Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked.   
  
"Studying," she replied without looking up.   
  
"I can see that. For what?"   
  
"N.E.W.T.s."  
  
Ron snorted. "N.E.W.T.s? Hermione, we're only a few months into our sixth year, and you're already studying for N.E.W.T.s? We don't even *take* them, until next year."   
  
"Well at least I won't be cramming everything into the last week before the tests, like *some* people I know. Right, Harry?"   
  
He scratched his neck awkwardly. "Well, I agree with Ron. I mean, studying early is one thing, this is just wrong. It's almost like you *want* to take the N.E.W.T.s."   
  
"Well, I do," she said simply.   
  
"What?!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up.   
  
"Oh, Ron, please. Don't be so dramatic. And I don't mean I enjoy taking tests, I mean the N.E.W.T.s decide what your career is going to be."   
  
"But you do."   
  
"What?"   
  
"You enjoy taking tests. I've seen you."   
  
"I don't- Ron, you- have you two talked yet?" They both shook their heads. "Leave me alone!"   
  
Harry and Ron had their first real exchange of the day. Ron looked at Harry in mock-horror, mouthing, "Mental." Harry grinned and nodded vigorously. When Hermione glanced up, they looked away immediately to prevent themselves from laughing. Harry thought everything might go back to normal, but then they reverted to their uncomfortable, not-talking mode. He sighed and took out his homework.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron looked up from his Transfiguration homework for the zillionth time and caught Harry looking at him as well. This had been going on all night. Tired of not talking to Harry, he motioned to the stairs with his head, and they gathered their things.   
  
Upon entering his room, Ron threw his books carelessly on the carpet. "Sit down," he offered.   
  
Harry placed his bag on the floor, sitting uncertainly on Ron's bed. "We should, um," he began nervously. Ron waited for him to finish the sentence. It took a good ten minutes. "We should talk about what happened last night."   
  
"Yeah."   
  
Neither of them spoke for an agonizing minute. Then Harry said, "Was I right, when I guessed who your crush was?"   
  
Looking away, Ron nodded. He chanced a look at Harry and found that his friend was smiling widely. "I wasn't exactly sure. I don't know why I kissed you. I just did it."   
  
"Do you regret it?"   
  
"Not at all. Do you?"   
  
"No." Ron took a deep breath, not knowing whether this confession would be received well. "This summer, when I saw you at Diagon Alley, I started to realize it. It wasn't until a week into the school term that I realized I liked you as more than a friend. At first I hated myself for it. I kept thinking, 'how could you let this happen?'. But then, I thought, 'why not?'. Then I was okay with it. I was really depressed, though, because I didn't think you'd like me that way, and you were always so worried about everything. Now…" He stopped. Harry was staring at him. "What about you?"   
  
"I thought the same thing," he said. " 'Why not?' But it was right before the kiss. When I realized you liked me, that was the first time I had ever considered the possibility of us being more than friends. It had just never occurred to me before. But I…well, I guess you could call it instinct, when I kissed you. And I liked it." He grinned. "I liked it a lot."   
  
Ron laughed. "Me too. So, um…what…?"   
  
"Let's just say for now we're more than friends. We'll take it from there." Harry winked.   
  
"Agreed," Ron said, holding out his hand. Harry shook it solemnly, then kissed Ron squarely on the lips. Ron was surprised but quite pleased. *Very* pleased.   
  
When he pulled away, Ron was smiling like there was no tomorrow. "I think we made the right decision," he said quietly.   
  
Harry laughed as he stood. "I'll see you later, Ron." He slung his bag on his shoulder and walked out. Ron leaned back on his bed, placing his hands behind his head. The grin plastered on his face would remain there for a while.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
The tiny green bird that had flown in his window that summer caught Harry's attention. He had not used it yet for any number of reasons, but he was feeling…giddy. It probably had something to do with Ron, he thought, but it was a good excuse to take a chance. He wrote a quick note to Sirius.   
  
~* I thought you were dead. Where are you? How can this bird help us communicate, how can it find you wherever you are? Do you know anything about what Voldemort is doing?*~  
  
He took the bird down to the common room later that night, opening the window for it. He watched it fly into the distance, then suddenly wink out. Harry blinked. The bird had gone- he did not know where. However, he did not have long to wonder. Almost at the same moment, he saw another green bird flying toward him…or was it the same bird?   
  
He ripped Sirius's reply from the poor animal, scanning it quickly.   
  
~* I'm afraid I cannot answer all your questions at this time. For now, let's just say I am no longer in the world of the living. Not the same one as yours, at least. There is no such thing as passage of time, here, so I don't know how long this will take to reach you.   
  
To be honest, I don't know how the bird does it. It just does.   
  
I have not heard anything about Voldemort lately. Many theories have been formulated… but they are just conjectures. Nothing is certain, I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more.   
  
-Sirius*~   
  
*Well, it's a start,* Harry thought. He wished Ron would come down, he could probably take his mind off Voldemort…then he realized Ron had prefect duty that night. He didn't want to wait in the common room, because he was not in the mood for a lecture about his study habits from Hermione. Nothing, however, was stopping him from waiting in Ron's room.   
  
The next morning, Harry crept back into his more-than-friend's room, stifling a chuckle when he found him still asleep. He tiptoed to the bed, observing Ron's bed-hair and the oddly twisted position he was sleeping in. Harry woke him with a kiss.   
  
"Good morning," said a bleary-eyed Ron, sitting up sleepily. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Waking you up, what does it look like, sleepyhead?" Harry grinned, leaning over to kiss Ron again. This time he did not end it so quickly.   
  
"Ron, I-" the voice stopped short. Harry removed his lips from Ron's and whipped his head around to see Ginny standing in the doorway, not quite shocked enough to forget to close the door behind her.   
  
"What are you doing in here, Ginny? Why are you in the boys' dorm anyway?" Ron inquired angrily.   
  
"Well," she said calmly, a smile playing on her lips. "I *intended* to come here to ask you to borrow Pig. I need to send mum a message, and she said we shouldn't be sending strange owls to our house anymore. But lucky me, I got a free show instead!" She did not laugh, but her eyes shone with amusement.   
  
"Oh, shut up, Ginny," Ron said grumpily.   
  
"When did this happen?" she asked, suddenly serious.   
  
"Sunday night," Harry offered. "I kissed Ron in the bathroom. Then, last night-"   
  
"I don't need the details. So you're newlyweds, then? Congratulations!"   
  
"Ginny!"   
  
"Sorry, Ron. I can't help it. I never would have expected…you know. But I'm happy for you."   
  
Ron shrugged sheepishly, hiding his smile. "Thanks. Pig's out delivering something right now."   
  
"You can borrow Hedwig, Ginny," Harry said.   
  
"Okay, thanks," she practically bounced from the room.   
  
"Um…Harry?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"You don't think she'll tell anyone, do you?"   
  
"Why, you don't want people to know?"   
  
"Well…not yet. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. You know what the Slytherins'd be like."   
  
Harry sighed. "Yeah. I suppose you're right. We should wait. I think Ginny's safe, but we should tell her just in case."   
  
"I think so too. We'll have to catch her at breakfast."   
  
Harry smiled at Ron playfully, leaning in for another kiss. Before they had got far, a sharp knock came at the door before it burst open. "Oy, Ron! You up yet?" Seamus shouted.   
  
Ron looked ruefully at Harry. "We really should lock the door if we're going to keep doing this."   
  
End Chapter 10  
  
Hmmm. Maybe they *should* lock the door. That'll be a future chapter. "Ron's Locked Door". No, I don't know.   
  
I love you guys and your reviews! I don't know what I'd do without you! Probably I wouldn't write this story. Now I think I'll respond to some of them, because I got mixed reactions to my Ron/Harry pairing. To those of you who liked it, well, thanks. I wanted to add another plot twist.   
  
To those of you who did not like this particular pairing, first I'd like to let you know that the emphasis will be on Herm/Draco, as this is a Herm/Draco fic. I don't plan to go into a lot of detail about Ron and Harry's physical relationship. Also, I would like it very much if you would refrain from putting things like "ew, they're gay" in your reviews. I'm offended by that, and I'm not even homosexual myself. If you feel you must comment, please be a little less bluntly prejudiced, okay?   
  
To everyone: My usual pairing is Ron/Hermione, I'm a Ron/Hermione nutter, which basically means I'm crazy and I think they should go together. This, however, is a Hermione/Draco fic, so I couldn't put Hermione and Ron together. In almost every other story I ever write about Harry Potter, they'll be together. Seriously. If you don't believe me, go read one.   
  
This is the longest endnote I've ever written in the middle of a story.   
  
Please Review, you'll get a present…at some point in your life…evil smile…*laughter starts then fades almost immediately*… 


	12. The Defense Teacher

Chapter 11- The Defense Teacher  
  
Hermione came to the conclusion, after a month of the new school term, that Professor Winkly was the oldest man she had ever seen, very possibly older than Dumbledore. His hair consisted of a few cloudlike wisps that chose a different position on his head each day. He was stooped and shrunken just the slightest bit. Despite his age and small appearance, his presence commanded the attention of everyone in the room, even the Slytherins. And, as the students soon found out, the man knew almost *everything*.   
  
On the first day of class, Professor Winkly told them that this year's N.E.W.T. class would be studying the essence of magic in general, which left the course open to drift in almost any direction. He said, "By the end of the year each of you will have a deep understanding of Magic itself. You cannot hope to reach your full Magical potential if you do not understand it."   
  
After this brief introduction, he told the class about himself. He was a retired agent for the Office of Magical Defense at the Ministry. He was a pureblood, but his parents had been outcasts. Thus he had grown up in a wizard home in a Muggle city, a strange experience to be sure. He had been relieved to leave his Muggle town to go to Hogwarts, back when he was eleven. "Ah, how long ago these memories…"   
  
He remembered going into Ollivander's and buying his wand. "Fifteen inches, pine, two hairs from the tail of a centaur. One of the strangest wands he ever made, he told me, and had been looking for its match for decades. When he told me this, I made sure to take perfect care of this wand. I still have that same wand," he said, holding it out for the class to see. "Good for Transfiguration, Defense, and innovation. Not many can boast that combination."   
  
Hermione looked at her own wand. It was reliable, and she had done well enough with it, but she never felt that it was particularly special. Perhaps it had to…find its calling?   
  
"Every wand is different, and I will tell you why," Professor Winkly told them. "It is one of the key aspects of the essence of Magic. Every wand is different, because every person's Magic is different. It connects almost directly to the essence of your soul. Very close. We will be exploring these essences, and the way you can bend a spell depending on your particular brand of Magic. You only have a few minutes left. I will allow you to talk quietly. Class is done."   
  
Hermione held a quick conversation with Harry and Ron. She had some idea of what Professor Winkly was talking about, having read something very like it in "Alternate Magic". Neither of her friends had any inkling as to what Professor Winkly meant, but they were eager to learn more about it. As Hermione collected her books, she decided that Defense class would be very rewarding this year.   
  
Professor Winkly wasted no time continuing his lesson. "Not everyone can grasp the concept of the essence of Magic," he said knowingly. "I will try to simplify it for you, as much as it can be simplified. If you could view the personalities, the morals, everything that you cannot see with a glance about a person, as colors, you would see that while some are so similar that you can barely distinguish them, no two are quite the same. This is what adds color, so to speak, to the essence of Magic. Magic alone does not have this property, but when Magic mixes with a person's essence, then it is changed to fit with it."   
  
"This is a fact I could guarantee that not even all of your professors know. Or, they do not know they know. Sometimes, even if you know you know something, you don't really know what you think you know. Or what you know you know." At least half the class was still trying to figure out the last few sentences when Professor Winkly continued.   
  
"It is quite an easy thing to give in to the temptations of the Dark side and begin using Dark Magic. It is most unfortunate that sometimes, Dark Magic is used unintentionally. That is the nature of Dark Magic, because it does not like being refused. It does not like it at all. When you begin to use Dark Magic, your essence changes, just slightly. The more you use it, the more pronounced the change. Someone like Voldemort, who has been using Dark Magic since his school days, is now completely warped. He is no longer, in essence, the person he used to be. He has been changed, as anyone would had they used Dark Magic for so long. He is not unique in this respect."   
  
"It takes a great strength of will never to use Dark Magic. If you possess such a will, it is an asset to certain professions, such as Aurors. Fighting against Dark Magic takes more resistance to it than you might imagine. The reason is this: in order to fight Dark Magic effectively, you must understand it, and to understand it you must learn it. To learn it and never use it is something not everyone can do. This is why so many people fail Auror training. Many people make the mistake of thinking that Dark Magic is difficult to learn. It is true that to perform many of the spells, you must have a certain amount of power and control, but that is also true for spells of White Magic. It is not learning Dark Magic that is the challenge. It is keeping from *using* it that is hard for too many."   
  
The bell rang then, to the dismay of the entire class. They were enthralled by Professor Winkly's lesson, having never considered any of these possibilities before. Hermione was the only one who followed along, making connections with things she had read in the past. She was taking notes with her mind. She gathered her books with the rest of the class, eager to learn more.   
  
The next day, Professor Winkly continued as though he had never ceased. "Because of the change Dark Magic invokes in an essence, it increases the contrast with the essences of people who have never used a Dark spell before. Duels between a Dark wizard and a White wizard are therefore much more intense than between two of the same genre, especially if their sheer power is on an equal level. Their essences are so different that the spells effect the opponent in a different way. That is something I am unwilling to go into detail about, but I am sure Madame Pince has books relating to this subject."  
  
"This is, perhaps, part of the reason that Voldemort was hit with a curse all those years ago when he tried to kill Harry Potter."   
  
Hermione gave Harry a sympathetic smile when she saw every head in the room turn his way. He went red and sank as low into his seat as possible. She also noticed, however, that a few of the students were nodding with understanding. Professor Winkly did not embarrass Harry without purpose.   
  
"Since we cannot bring Dark wizards into class, I cannot demonstrate this. There are, however, certain spells that do differ for each person. One is the Patronus charm, which I am told at least one of you is capable of performing. We will spend some time on this spell, observing the different forms your Patroni take. There are some other spells as well, and we will work on those during the course of the year."   
  
"I would like you all to try to procure a copy of the book 'Alternate Magic'. It is fine if not all of you can find it, sharing books is not prohibited. This book contains some important points on the subject I was just explaining to you. Try to have it two weeks from now. That will be all for this class."   
  
Hermione immediately wrote a note to herself, reminding her to ask her mother to send her copy of "Alternate Magic". Glancing across the table at her two friends, she noticed Harry staring at his hands and nudged Ron. He turned to her in agitation, hissing, "What?"   
  
"Is Harry alright?"   
  
Ron looked immediately to Harry, who continued to be oblivious of everything around him. The bell rang, startling the black-haired boy, and he began to slowly collect his books. Just as he was finishing packing them into his bag, Professor Winkly said to him, "Harry, could I speak to you for a moment?" The rest of the class filed out. Hermione hoped Harry was alright.   
  
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"I apologize for bringing such attention to you," Professor Winkly said. His voice was not loud. It was never loud, but somehow seemed to spread out and fill every corner of the room. "But it was merely to prove a point, you see."   
  
Harry shook his head. "It's all right."   
  
"I noticed you seemed slightly uncomfortable toward the end of class."   
  
Harry considered lying, but abandoned that notion right away. He had been rather obvious, he admitted sheepishly to himself. "Yes."   
  
"Care to talk about it, Harry?" Professor Winkly asked with genuine concern.   
  
Harry hesitated. This was something he had told few people. The problem, however, was more in depth this time, and all reassurances he had been given seemed to mean nothing. He plunged into an explanation before he had time to think any more.   
  
"You said that each person's essence is different, and the wand you get relates to your essence. And some people's essences are very similar. Well, my wand…it shares its core-"   
  
"With Voldemort's wand."   
  
Harry stared in surprise. "Did Professor Dumbledore tell you?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, he did, but not until after Ollivander himself told me. I go to his wand shop to have a special treatment done to my wand. I do not want to lose such a unique magical aid. You see, Harry, because of its double core, my wand is able to perform two spells at once. But we are not here to talk about my wand. Would you care to elaborate on your concerns?"   
  
"Well, if my wand and Voldemort's wand have the same core…our essences must be similar. What does that mean for me?"   
  
"Your essences were similar at the time when you bought your wands, it is true. But did you not listen to the rest of it? His essence has been changed by the use of so much Dark Magic. You fear you will end up like him, somehow? Let me assuage your fears. The cores of your wands are the same. However, the *combinations* for your wands are quite different. Yours is- what?"   
  
"Holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches."   
  
"And Voldemort's is yew, thirteen and a half inches, phoenix feather. How many things does your wand have in common with Voldemort's?"   
  
"One…"   
  
"You see? You are not so similar. There are certain things about your personality that are just the way Tom Riddle was. But…you are not evil. I can see it."   
  
Harry smiled, relieved, and more reassured than he had ever felt before. "Thanks." He gathered his things to go.   
  
"One moment, Harry. I am not mistaken when I say that you are the student who can produce a Patronus?"   
  
"Well…some of my friends can, as well…"  
  
"And yours is in the shape of a stag?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Professor Winkly pursed his lips fleetingly. "That is all, thank you, Harry. Any time you want to talk, I am here."   
  
"Alright, Professor. I'll remember that."   
  
Ron was waiting not far from the door when he emerged. "What did he want to talk to you about?"   
  
"Hmm? Oh, not much. He just wanted to know why I was…staring…at the end of class."   
  
"What did you tell him?"   
  
"The truth."   
  
"Which is?"   
  
Harry glanced quickly at the passing students. "I'll tell you later."   
  
End Chapter 11  
  
I know it's evil to get so far off track from Draco and Hermione for three whole chapters. Hehe. I promise chapter 12 will concentrate on them. In the meantime, you'll have to wait, and review my story.   
  
To the people who aren't crazy about my Ron/Harry pairing: I forgot to say thank you for continuing to read my story anyway! I was planning to, but I just got sidetracked. So thank you! I appreciate the fact that you keep reading even though you don't like that aspect, and I understand why some people don't like it. Reading my story regardless is what makes me want to hug you. :)   
  
Only one more chapter until Christmas break!! In the story, that is.   
  
Please review, blue confetti if you do. 


	13. Flashback

Chapter 12- Flashback  
  
It was one week before Christmas break, and Hermione was lying on her bed, every memory she had of Draco Malfoy running through her head. Some of them were not even her own memories, but things Harry and Ron had told her.   
  
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."   
  
Draco had hated Ron on sight, and he had hated Harry the moment he had refused to ditch Ron for him. Hermione had always thought that Draco had hated her as well… but he said he never had.   
  
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"   
  
Neville had more brains than Crabbe and Goyle combined, but she had never heard Draco insult them the same way. It seemed that anyone not in Slytherin was susceptible to his taunts… but then, she had never heard him use the same insults privately, and he never spoke favorably of those who were supposedly his friends. She had the feeling he had always mocked the Gryffindors because it was expected.   
  
"Would you mind moving out of the way? Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."   
  
It had started in first year, and continued all through their school career up until that point. Draco could not help but insult Ron's family, always hitting him where he knew it hurt. Hermione closed her eyes in sympathy for Ron, knowing how much he hated having no money.   
  
Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. "The forest? We can't go in there at night- there's all sorts of things in there- werewolves, I heard." … "I'm not going in that forest."   
  
Hermione had clearly noted the panic in his voice, with some surprise. It was the first time she had ever truly heard him afraid. When Harry recounted what happened with him and Draco…and Voldemort…later on, she had felt smug about Draco's fear. Knowing him now, she thought his reaction had much more to it than simple cowardice. There was always a note of fear when he spoke of forests…maybe he would tell her one day.   
  
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."   
  
That comment still cut her deep to this day. She had never before been called a name meant to be so insulting. She got used to it after a while, and was able to brush off Draco's comments as unimportant. She had not known what it meant when he had said it, but she found out soon enough. When she did, she had quite a difficult time holding back her tears. In her opinion, it was a horrible thing to say. *No one asked your opinion…* She shook the thought away.   
  
"I heard that last time a Mudblood died. As for me, I hope it's Granger."   
  
Now that she and Draco were friends, she was hurt by the memory. *Did he really hate me that much? I've never wished death upon him, no matter how angry I was.*   
  
When she had slapped him in third year, it was true that she had felt a certain amount of satisfaction. When he had been turned into a ferret in the beginning of their fourth year, she had certainly been amused. When he had hit her with the curse that made her teeth grow, she had been horrified. She had caught a fleeting image of Draco reflecting that same emotion, but then his face had hardened once more. She had pondered that glimpse of humanity so long, she finally decided she had imagined it. That was something she could ask him about.   
  
She went through many more memories, and in almost all of them he was insulting her. The only exception was at the Yule Ball in fourth year, but that memory had some bad feelings connected to it, and she did not dwell on it for long.   
  
As she sifted through all the insults she had ever heard him throw at her, she made an observation. His taunts were so spitting and overdone, it was almost as though he was exaggerating them on purpose. Trying to make them as believable as he could. He would not have to do such a thing if he really meant the things he said. She noted the subtleties of his method- the way his face twisted slightly, presumably to control his expression. His tone and inflection, the way his words always sounded sarcastic, and something else… regret, but this was so overshadowed by bitterness that no one noticed. She certainly had never noticed before.   
  
They did not talk about the past. Not about their past together. They talked about their individual lives all the time, but never about things that had happened to both of them in previous years at Hogwarts. Hermione suddenly had the desire to know what Draco thought about these things. She would write him a note, perhaps, to find out when next they could talk.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
It was one week before Christmas break, and Draco was lying on his bed, every memory he had of Hermione Granger running through his head.   
  
He would never forget the first time he had laid eyes on her. He had seen first, not her flyaway hair or her large front teeth, but her eyes. They were deep and intelligent, a rich brown. There was something special about her. He immediately started taunting her and teasing her. He knew he got worse every year; he did it intentionally. The fact that she was in Gryffindor added incentive to make her life miserable.   
  
*Of course I regret it,* he thought, responding to his own question. *I would have been happy to have her as a friend from the first day I met her. But what would my father have said?*   
  
When he had found out that she was Petrefied in their second year, he had immediately locked himself in the bathroom to sulk. He did not know how he did it, but he sank deeper into his depression. He perked up a little when she was revived, but he did not show it. Oh, no.   
  
Her full-armed slap in third year brought a whole new range of thought to him. Hermione Granger's first display of violence. Against him. He was rather proud of himself at the time. He still was, because others could see her strength, and that she did, in fact, have instinct, and did not *always* think before acting.   
  
At the Yule Ball…ah, the Yule Ball. She had looked stunning. When his curse had made her teeth grow, he had been almost as horrified as she was, but he could not let it show. He controlled his expression quickly, but he could not help but feel that someone had seen. He, of course, had noticed that her teeth were actually *normal* the very next time he saw her. She gave him a sarcastically sweet smile as he passed her in the hallway and called her a Mudblood. It had been an effort to keep walking when he noticed the change in her smile. Her teeth were straight and perfect, and enhanced her good looks nicely. At the Yule Ball, it had been even more noticeable, along with her sleek hairstyle and subtle makeup. She had been beautiful. *She still is,* he sighed to himself.   
  
Fifth year was a blur of memories, up until February, when he had started to feel strange pangs when he looked at her. Then in April, when he had suddenly found himself slicing a name into his arm, full realization hit him, and it had almost sickened him.   
  
He stood in front of the mirror one week before Christmas break, pulling up the sleeve of his robes. "Oh good," the mirror remarked. "You're healing, then. I was almost worried when you came in with blood all over your arm."   
  
Draco nodded wordlessly to the mirror. "It's not good to sabotage such perfection, you know," the mirror said.   
  
*No. I do not have a mirror flirting with me.* Mirrors didn't flirt, he reminded himself. The Hogwarts mirrors simply stated what they thought to be truth. At times it could become quite annoying.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Of course I'm not going home for vacation," Draco said disdainfully. "I want to stay away from my father as long as possible. Why…you're not going home, are you?"   
  
"No," Hermione answered. She traced the petals of a red-veined white rose from Narcissa's garden. She wanted to see her parents, but… "Ron, Harry and I will be the only ones from Gryffindor staying."   
  
"Bloody marvelous."   
  
"Draco…"   
  
"I'm sorry. I should probably tell you, only one Slytherin will be here aside from me. He's one of the rare good ones, like me. He's on my side."   
  
"I know. I read the sign-up list." She *had* noticed, and it was why she was staying. "So, I was thinking…so we don't have to come here all the time…and I overheard that Snape is leaving for a few weeks…"  
  
"I see," Draco said immediately. "You thought we could just hang out in the Slytherin common room?"   
  
"Yes." She turned back to her books. "Ron and Harry are so used to me being gone, they probably won't even notice if I'm not around."   
  
"That seems fine to me. The password for the vacation will be *Draco dormiens*."   
  
Hermione giggled. "A sleeping dragon?"   
  
"I think it was meant to be a joke. At least someone finds it funny, because I don't."   
  
"At least you won't forget it."   
  
"I have never forgotten a password in my life. What are you reading?"   
  
"I'm studying."   
  
"Okay, for what?"   
  
"N.E.W.T.s," was her answer. She hoped she was not blushing too badly.   
  
"Hermione, I'm serious. You can't spend your entire life studying. We're not even *taking* the test this year."   
  
She set aside the book. "Fine."   
  
"What do you want to do, besides study?" He smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes.   
  
"Um…" she suddenly felt very shy. "Do you think we could- we could wrestle?"   
  
Draco burst out laughing. "You…you- want- you want to- wrestle- with…HAHA…with me?"   
  
"Oh, never mind," she snapped, pulling her book a few inches toward her. She should have known it would be a bad idea.   
  
"No, no," he said, when he had recovered. "I was just surprised. I'll wrestle with you."   
  
Hermione blushed immediately. *Why in Merlin's name am I doing this?*   
  
"We need suitable conditions, though," Draco said, looking around the room. The furniture disappeared, and she felt the floor soften slightly.   
  
"Okay," Hermione said. She saw the mischievous look in Draco's eye. "Let me get ready- Draco!"   
  
He tackled her before she had a chance to prepare. They both fell to the ground. "No fair!"   
  
"Hey, you wanted to wrestle. You have to be ready for these things, you know." He was sprawled on top of her, his face inches from hers. Fine. She would show him ready.   
  
With a sudden surge of strength, she pushed him off her, and managed to roll him over on his stomach with one arm twisted up behind him. He started trembling for a moment, and she had the impression that he was trying to hide a laugh. It only took him a little while to get out of her hold, and they rolled around on the floor, her shrieking and him laughing. Every time he got a grip on her wrist, she wrenched it away. Finally, he managed to trap one arm under her back, and caught the other in his hand.   
  
"I win," he grinned.   
  
"If you could only see where my leg is," she said sweetly.   
  
He shifted to see her knee, slightly raised, directly between his legs. He looked up pleadingly, his eyebrows drawn down. "Hermione…come on."   
  
She laughed. "Don't worry. Would I do that to you?"   
  
"I don't know. I wouldn't expect it, but then you asking to wrestle was quite surprising. Though I must admit," he flashed her another grin, "it was quite fun."   
  
Hermione smiled. "I thought so too."   
  
He still had her pinned on the floor. Hermione felt a strange stirring deep within her stomach. It was pleasantly uncomfortable…whatever that meant.   
  
"Draco, please get off me."   
  
"Do you have to ruin all my fun?"   
  
"Draco!" she exclaimed. Her eyes widened in amusement.   
  
"All right, all right. I'm getting off, happy?"   
  
"Draco! That's not what I meant!"   
  
He laughed wickedly. "I know. I wasn't serious. I just wanted to see how you'd react," he said as he let her up.   
  
Hermione did not let her tiny laugh escape. She did not want to encourage that kind of thing.   
  
"Same time tomorrow?"   
  
"We have class."   
  
"Oh. Right. Okay then. After class tomorrow?"   
  
"Draco, don't you need time to do your homework?"   
  
"Hermione, I don't need *that* time to do my homework."   
  
"Well, I do. Why don't we say…ten tomorrow?"   
  
"A morning rendevous, eh?"   
  
"No. Ten at night."   
  
"But that's breaking curfew!" he said in mock-horror, placing a hand over his mouth.   
  
"Oh, shove it, Draco."   
  
He gasped in- guess what?- mock-horror. Hermione shook her head as she left the Room of Requirement.   
  
He taunted her to no end, often worse than Ron did. For some reason, she did not mind as much when Draco did it. And wrestling with him had been- an experience, she thought quickly, trying not to blush. *It's not as though anyone can hear me,* she admonished, but it did not matter. She had never had thoughts like this before, and she was not sure she was ready for them.   
  
The worst part was… she often forgot that Draco was a Slytherin, that she was supposed to be enemies with him…when they were *not* alone.   
  
End Chapter 12  
  
Back to Hermione and Draco, we are! Did you enjoy it? I hope so.   
  
Thank you my lovely reviewers::::: Yes, I am sure that I'm not JKR. If I was I'd be rich and out of high school. :::: It took me about two hours to write the last chapter, hehe. My mind works very quickly. ::::: Mednar, I will read your story as soon as I have time. Everyone feel free to advertise your own fics in your reviews. :::: Sarah- you read it! You actually read it! I was surprised. I loave you so so much!   
  
SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT!!! I would appreciate if some of you will read my most recent fic, As Darkness Destroys Us, about the Mauraders after Hogwarts. I have no reviews as of yet and I really want some feedback.   
  
More blue confetti to all my wonderful reviewers, including the ones who are about to review this chapter!! 


	14. Gryffindorian Christmas

Chapter 13- Gryffindorian Christmas  
  
As soon as Harry saw that Hermione was the only one who had signed up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break, he caught Ron's eye and knew that they were having the same thought. Grinning, Harry signed both of them up.   
  
"Where's Ginny going?" Harry wondered aloud.   
  
Ron scowled. "She's going to Seamus's house," he said acidly, "to meet his family."   
  
Harry hid his smile and turned his laugh into a cough. "Come on, Ron, don't be so upset about it." He leaned over to speak in Ron's ear. "At least it means we'll get to be alone."   
  
Ron shot him a seductive look…or one that tried and failed hopelessly to be. Harry thought it was cute nonetheless. "Hermione's still here, though."   
  
"Well, Hermione's been disappeared since November. What makes you think she'd reappear now?" In all honesty, Harry was worried about Hermione, but at the same time he was glad she was not around. She would have noticed something, undoubtedly.   
  
Once again, Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Should we tell her?"   
  
Harry was silent. After a minute or two, he shook his head slowly. "Not yet. I think she's having something…happen. Some personal stuff or something. We shouldn't bother her just yet…anyway, are you ready for her to know?"   
  
"Probably not," Ron admitted. "All the same, I kind of feel bad not telling her."   
  
"I want to kiss you."   
  
"Shhhh! Harry, people could be listening."   
  
Harry grinned. "Sorry. But I do."   
  
"Ron and Harry, sitting in a tree," a quiet voice said.   
  
"Ginny!" Harry and Ron exclaimed.   
  
"Why don't you go up to Ron's room already? You're sickening."   
  
"Not any more that you and Seamus," Harry teased.  
  
"Wanna bet?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
Seamus came up beside Ginny. She batted her eyelashes and he stuck his tongue down her throat. Ron turned away, but Harry watched in amusement. "See?" he said. Ginny winked before they disappeared up the steps to the boys' dorm.   
  
"Hey Ron," Harry said. "You could bust Ginny for being in the boys' dorm."   
  
"I wouldn't do that to my own sister. I'm not going to go turning into Percy."   
  
Harry shuddered. "I hope not. Then who would I…" he scribbled a quick note and passed it to Ron.   
  
"You'd better not do that with *any* of my brothers," Ron warned.   
  
Harry laughed. He wrote another note. *It's not Weasleys I like, Ron, it's you.*   
  
The last Friday before Christmas break, Harry rolled his eyes when Ron was not down in the common room. "He must still be asleep. You go ahead, I'll wake him."   
  
Seamus, Dean and Neville continued down to the Great Hall. Harry climbed the stairs, pushing the door to Ron's room open carefully. He closed it again as slowly as he knew how.   
  
Harry crept to Ron's bedside, kneeling quietly so as not to wake him. Carefully, precisely, he licked Ron's cheek.   
  
"Hey!" Ron said, jerking awake and wiping his cheek off. "Harry, what the hell?"   
  
"What, you didn't like it?" Harry asked, turning his head in shame.   
  
"Well- I guess- but did you have to do that to wake me up?" Ron smiled.   
  
"Yes."   
  
Ron pushed Harry, who fell to the floor, his limbs flopping every which way. When Harry next glanced at Ron, he covered his eyes jokingly. "Oh the horror!" Ron, as it was plain to see, had been sleeping in the buff.   
  
"Shut up, Harry. I wouldn't say anything like that to you."   
  
"I'll *bet* you wouldn't," Harry teased. He liked to tease. He was in a very playful mood, ever since the end of November, actually.   
  
Ron pulled on his robes, grinning. "No, I wouldn't. I think I'd be too busy with…other things. Like the fact that you're NAKED, for one thing."   
  
"Shh, Ron, you don't want anyone to hear us, do you? Let's go down to the Great Hall."   
  
"You don't think Ginny told Seamus, do you?"   
  
"Ron, will you stop it already? She got it when we told her not to tell *anyone*. She didn't tell Seamus. She won't."   
  
"I hope you're right."   
  
"What would be so bad about it, anyway? I mean, we wouldn't break up just because people *knew*, would we?"   
  
"So we're going out now?"   
  
"Isn't that what we've been doing?"   
  
"I thought you said we were just-" he broke off as a Ravenclaw third year passed. "More-than-friends," he finished.   
  
"Well," Harry began. He gestured with his head toward the nearest classroom, which at that time would be empty. They stepped inside. "I was thinking. We've been more-than-friends for almost a month. I think we should take the next step or something. Like- like we could be boyfriend and…boyfriend. You know?"   
  
Ron's face broke into a wide grin. "I would love to be your boyfriend, Harry," he said happily. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was so ecstatic, all he could do was grin and kiss Ron before they left the classroom.   
  
Snape had left early for his vacation, or job, or whatever he was doing. Potions class was cancelled. Harry and Ron went to the kitchens to get some food, stealing a few furtive kisses on the way, and the sixth year Gryffindors had a party in the common room. "This sure beats Potions," Dean commented. Neville was contentedly munching a chocolate éclair.   
  
All the Gryffindors were enjoying themselves. Students from other years joined them as classes let out. Soon everyone was having a grand old time. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Soon, however, she emerged from her bedroom, and even went as far as a glass of pumpkin juice before retreating upstairs again. Ron and Harry exchanged looks and shook their heads before diving headlong back into the party.   
  
The consecutive Saturday saw most of the Gryffindors off, and Ron and Harry were alone during the day. "So what do you want to do?" Harry asked.   
  
"Chess?" Ron suggested.   
  
"What's the point? You always win."   
  
"Well, we'll have stakes this time. If you lose, you have to kiss me."   
  
"What if I win?"   
  
"Then I have to kiss you."   
  
"I've got an idea," Harry said, grinning. "Why don't we skip the game and just go right to the prize?"   
  
That was how they ended up exploring each other's mouths for the next two hours.   
  
Suddenly Ron pulled away. Harry was disappointed. "What?"   
  
"Do you hear that?"   
  
Harry listened. Footsteps sounded outside of the portrait hole. "Snowflake Angel."   
  
"It's Hermione!" Harry moved quickly to the armchair across the table.  
  
She entered with a hand over her face, racing up to the dormitory. She didn't even see them. Ron looked from the stairs to Harry. "What do you think that was about?"   
  
When she reentered, she was calm and collected. "What are you doing?" she said, sitting on the couch with Ron.   
  
"Playing chess," Ron said, gesturing to the table.   
  
Hermione looked at the board. "You haven't even moved yet."   
  
"We can't decide who goes first." Harry saw Ron's look, but ignored it.   
  
"White. Even I know that."   
  
"We can't decide who should be white," Harry said.   
  
"Just pick a color. You two, sometimes, I just don't know."   
  
"It's not that simple," Ron said, trying to help Harry's excuse make sense. "We have to think about this carefully, from every angle-"   
  
"Of *course* it's that simple. Why does it matter who's black and who's white? Why do boys have to make everything so *complicated*?" She said angrily.   
  
"Nevermind, don't answer," she muttered, and stomped out of the common room.   
  
"What's wrong with her?" Ron wondered.   
  
"I don't know." Harry hoped this did not mean she *would* be around for the whole vacation. Then he and Ron would never get a kiss in.   
  
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As it turned out, Hermione was once again stuck to their side for the first few days of break. Ron and Harry were only alone at night, when Hermione went up to her dorm. It was much like the old days again, except that Ron and Harry wished she would go away, and she very much looked like she wanted to be somewhere else.   
  
On Christmas morning, Hermione looked happy for once. Ron and Harry descended from their rooms to find her waiting by the tree. "I thought our presents were usually at the foot of our beds," Ron said.   
  
"Happy Christmas to you too, Ron," Hermione smiled. "Since there are only three of us here, our presents fit under the tree. Come on, I've been waiting for you."   
  
Harry was relieved that Hermione was happy again, but he still wished she would leave them alone for a few minutes. "Yeah, come on, Ron, she's been waiting for us." He quickened his pace to close the distance between himself and his presents.   
  
Later on, Harry stole a Chocolate Frog from the pile he had gotten for Ron and looked over their presents. He had received a N.E.W.T. study book from Hermione- which he would have complained about, but appeared to be so useful that it would come in handy when he put off studying until a week before the test- a note from the Dursleys telling him that this was the last summer he could come back (thank god, he thought), a box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Condoms from Ron- at which he had thrown Ron a very suggestive look, and Ron had acted like it was a joke but looked back at him very meaningfully- a beautiful black hippogriff feather quill from Hagrid- the hippogriff had been flying in a storm and died, poor creature (Hagrid's words)- and a note in a script that he now recognized as Dumbledore's.   
  
*Read 'Alternate Magic', Chapter 16: The Properties of 'White Shields'*   
  
They all had fair piles. It was only until about half their piles of candy were gone when Harry saw the hidden present behind the tree. It was wrapped in iridescent red paper, and had a label with Hermione's name.   
  
"You missed one, Mione," he said.   
  
"Now you can't say my name right either?" she said as she came to look. She did not seem to know who had sent it, and there was no written indication. Harry and Ron sat back to watch.   
  
When the paper came off, a perfect peach-colored rose fell to the floor. She slowly bent and picked it up gingerly, inhaling its aroma. She sluggishly opened the rest of the present as well. *She must have figured out who sent it.*   
  
Along with the rose, a large painting was concealed in the paper. It was a colorful, swirling portrait of Hermione herself, by someone who apparently cared about her. Her hair in the picture was a version of her own wild hair that was one of the slightly tamer styles she had taken to wearing. Her eyes were bright and wide, her cheeks flushed prettily. Stars twinkled around her in a many-colored sky.   
  
"Oh, my…" Hermione never finished that sentence. Harry did not want to guess exactly what of hers she was talking about. He did not have much time to think about that, because she picked up the Muggle music disc that was included.   
  
Disappearing into her dorm for five minutes, she reemerged with a handheld CD player. Ron had no idea what it was, but of course Harry knew, and explained it while Hermione listened to the CD.   
  
She removed the headphones a few minutes after putting them on, and then said quietly, "I have to go somewhere." Plucking the rose from the floor, she slipped out of the portrait hole.   
  
"I wonder who it's from," Ron said. He looked at Harry hopefully. "Alone at last?"   
  
"Maybe," Harry responded. "I think we'll have to wait and see."   
  
Ron looked disappointed. "Oh, well. Let's go get breakfast." Harry smiled at his boyfriend's back. Food could distract Ron from anything. "Well, are you coming, Harry?"   
  
It was Sirius's green bird, bearing a short message, that brought Harry his best gift that day. When he read the note, he almost cried.   
  
*I saw Lily and James shortly a few days ago. They wanted me to tell you hello, and they love you.   
  
Love, Sirius*  
  
End Chapter 13   
  
Thank you guys for all your reviews! Me loves you, so glad you like my story, because I like it. It's probably my favorite one that I've written/ am in the process of writing. Loves you me does to little teeniest pieces. Me really really does.   
  
Please review. More confetti, this time it's color-shifting. It turns purple in water. 


	15. The Perfect Gift

Chapter 14- The Perfect Gift  
  
*I'm going to tell her. I'm telling her today. No, shut up, I'm telling her.* Draco's thoughts were thus on the first day of Christmas break. He had debated for the entire week about whether to tell her. That morning, he had resolved that if he kept his feelings inside any longer, he would probably implode. Or explode. Neither was appealing to him.   
  
*But the hard part will be telling her the whole thing.* He sighed. She would show up at any moment.   
  
She was smiling when she entered the common room. "Feel up to wrestling today?" she joked. He smiled weakly, shaking his head. He was not sure he was even up to talking.   
  
"Would you just- sit for a while?"   
  
She sat, curiously eyeing him. Thankfully, she did not ask him any questions. He gathered his courage and told her the one thing he would never have told her before he got to know her.   
  
"Hermione, I need to get this out. It's going to be hard, so please don't talk until I'm done. I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it even in complete silence."   
  
Following his suggestion, she nodded. He let out his breath slowly. *Well, the hard part first,* he thought, rolling up his sleeve. He showed her the now healed cuts on his arm. She lowered her eyebrows in confusion.   
  
*Here goes.* "Last February I started to have these strange pangs when I thought of you, or looked at you, or heard your name. I did not know what they were, I really was confused. Then one day in April, I woke up to find my arm bleeding. When I went to the bathroom and washed it off, I realized what had happened. In my sleep, I had started to cut a word into my skin. The word was your name. 'Hermione'. I was too embarrassed to go to Madame Pomfrey, but I knew then that I was in love with you."   
  
"I've always liked you, Hermione. From the first day I saw you, I liked you. I had to act like I hated you, though. You were in Gryffindor, you were Muggle-born. My father would have killed me. So the more I liked you, the meaner I got. You must have noticed how I just got worse each year. I had to. I was trying to cover up my feelings. At the Yule Ball, I was angry only because I couldn't hate you that night. You were just so, so beautiful-"   
  
"But you always are. I never cared that your hair was bushy, or that your teeth were not perfect. You were always beautiful to me, and you always will be. I'm so sorry for everything, I wish I could have gone back and switched my parents. Or, just my father. Then I might have been able to let you know sooner. I'm still not willing to let my father know about my feelings…"   
  
"I understand if you don't feel the same, I've been horrible to you for five years. I don't expect anything from you, I just had to get my feelings out. I just need to ask you to think about it, please? And if you want, we can just stay just friends. I just couldn't hide it anymore. You have no idea what it's like."   
  
He stopped pacing suddenly and looked at her. She was still staring at his arm. He realized that his sleeve was still pushed up to the elbow, and he hastily pulled it down again. With the barrier between her eyes and the scars, large tears began to form. When she looked into his eyes, they spilled over. She looked down again.   
  
"Hermione-"   
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and ran weeping from the Slytherin common room.   
  
Draco threw himself onto the green leather couch, cursing himself for a fool. Of course she wouldn't feel the same way. *Idiot.* He rested his forehead on his hand and remained that way for a long time. He did not even brush away the solitary tear that dripped down his cheek.   
  
"Draco?" a small voice said from the dormitory hallway.   
  
"What, Sagittus." Sagittus Lottari was a second year with midnight black hair and deep blue eyes. He was very quiet, but after talking to him, Draco knew him to be quite confident and intelligent as well.   
  
"I can help you get her back."   
  
Draco's head snapped up. "You were listening, you little-"   
  
"No, it's just really obvious. What else would you be depressed about, when that's all you ever talk about? You really do need some lessons in common sense."   
  
Draco laughed mirthlessly. "I guess I do. Falling in love with Hermione Granger." They were both silent for a moment. "How am I going to win her over?"   
  
"Christmas day."   
  
Draco spent the next two days working on her gift, barely pausing to eat or sleep. "My masterpiece," he said when he had finished. "What do you think?"   
  
"It needs a frame," Sagittus stated bluntly.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Never knew I could feel like this  
  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
  
Want to vanish inside your kiss  
  
Every day I love you more and more  
  
Listen to my heart can you hear it sing   
  
Telling me to give you everything  
  
Seasons may change, winter to spring  
  
But I love you until the end of time  
  
Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day  
  
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
  
It all revolves around you  
  
And there's no mountain too high  
  
Now river too wide  
  
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side  
  
Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide  
  
But I love you until the end of time   
  
Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day   
  
Oh come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Oh I will love you  
  
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place   
  
Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day  
  
The song echoed in Hermione's head as she made her way down to the dungeons. She knew the significance of the song Draco had chosen. She knew it was how he felt about her. She know knew her own feelings, and she could not ignore them either.   
  
She backtracked five steps when she realized she had passed the hidden door. "Draco dormiens," she said quietly. The door began to slide open. She descended into the common room to find Draco sitting on a couch with a dark-haired boy.   
  
The boy exchanged a pointed glance with Draco before sliding off the couch and disappearing into his dorm. "Who was that?" Hermione asked lamely.   
  
"Sagittus Lottari," Draco replied. He did not look at her.   
  
"Oh." She sat down with him, but he stood and began pacing immediately. "Draco, will you-"   
  
"Hermione, I can't just be friends with you, not now that you know my feelings. I am always going to love you, and to know that you do not love me back is too painful. I know I said we can be just friends but I was just trying to take some of the pressure off and now you're probably thinking-"   
  
Apparently, Draco had just abandoned breathing in favor of hysteria.   
  
"Draco, listen to me." He stopped talking but continued to pace. "I do not know if I love you. It is too soon to tell. But I do like you." She glanced up at him. His steps had slowed. "As more than a friend." They slowed even more. "A lot." He stopped short directly in front of her.   
  
"When I said I was sorry yesterday," she explained. "It was probably not clear. The thing I was sorry about was not that you loved me. I was sorry that your feelings for me caused you so much pain. I would never want to bring that upon you."   
  
"I brought it upon myself." Draco shook his head. "I've always thought I was stupid for loving you."   
  
"No," she protested. "I was stupid for not getting to know you. You have every right to your feelings. And…I want to be with you. The painting showed me what you thought of me, and I almost stopped breathing. The song, though…the song was beautiful. And I finally understood how you felt."   
  
Draco smiled sheepishly. "You can thank Sagittus for that. His grandmother is a Muggle, so he knows these things. I just told him how I felt, and he found the appropriate song."   
  
"Well, thank him for me," Hermione said, standing. "Because I loved it."   
  
"I opened the ankh pendant you bought for me," Draco said. "Thank you. It was great. Well, it still is." He took it from underneath his black sweater.   
  
"You're wearing it already. That's so sweet."   
  
Draco took her hand. "I'm glad you like it."   
  
She knew he meant his gift. He led her to the couch and they sat there, staring at each other, occasionally smiling with affection. Suddenly Hermione broke into a fit of giggles. "I'm sorry," she said when she recovered. "I can't help it."   
  
"Well, you've got eleven more days to giggle in the Slytherin common room."   
  
"I want us to be together, Draco," she sighed. "That's what I think."   
  
He smiled widely. "Now *this* is the perfect gift."   
  
"Draco, I-"   
  
She had not known what she was about to say, and she never found out. Words were futile. They were muffled by Draco's lips on hers.   
  
End Chapter 14  
  
As usual thank you reviewers, I loves you! Confetti!   
  
Song: 'Come What May' From the movie 'Moulin Rouge'. God I love Ewan McGregor.   
  
Please review. This time reviewers get star and moon confetti on top of a brownie. 


	16. Privacy

Chapter 15- Privacy  
  
When they pulled away, Draco smiled. "I'm glad no one's here this vacation," he commented quietly.   
  
"Yes," Hermione replied. "It would be terrible if anyone found out that you were dating a Mudblood."   
  
Draco winced. He heard the note of resentment in her voice.   
  
"*You've* said it often enough," she remarked.   
  
"I know," he said. "And I knew you would still be holding it against me. I don't blame you in the slightest, I blame myself for everything. But I already told you, I had little choice in the whole thing. I feel terrible for ever calling you that. I've apologized to you millions of times, even if you could never hear me."   
  
"Well, you're forgiven," she said, "but no one else is."   
  
"Good. Don't forgive them. I don't even think I deserve it."   
  
"Yes, you do. Besides, I can't be holding a grudge against my boyfriend," she smiled.   
  
Sighing with masked relief, he leaned closer. She met him halfway and they kissed again. Hermione giggled slightly. "You're a very good artist," she said, "but your realism needs work. The picture-Hermione looks nothing like me."   
  
"You're right. I could never capture such beauty on a canvas."   
  
"Stop it."   
  
"I'm serious. Half your beauty is in your personality. How can I do that with paints? It's impossible."   
  
"I wonder what the picture of me is doing right now."   
  
"Probably telling Weasley and Potter to start studying for N.E.W.T.s," Draco snorted.   
  
"That's not funny, Draco."   
  
"Yes it is." They both laughed.   
  
"Why can't you at least try to be friends with them?"   
  
"When they're friendly to me, I'll do the same for them," Draco said. "It's the largest compromise I'll agree to make, so you'd better be happy with it." He shook his finger in front of her face in a surprisingly McGonagall-esque gesture. She took his hand in hers tenderly, looking deeply into his eyes. For a moment he thought she could read his thoughts…and the thoughts he was having involving her at that moment were not ones he wanted to share. His mouth broke into a grin. "Still want to wrestle?"   
  
She started, having drifted off into some private thought. "Well…only if you promise to let me win."   
  
"Not fair. Anyway, you wouldn't be satisfied unless you really earned it."   
  
"True. You do know me, Draco."   
  
"Let's go, then."   
  
Ten minutes later, Draco was pinning Hermione to the floor. "We seem to find ourselves in this position often," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I do hope it will become a trend."   
  
Her eyes widened. "Draco! That's just- wrong." Then she dissolved into giggles again, still underneath him. He leaned down to kiss her. She yielded to his lips, and he savored her warm, gentle kiss.   
  
"You've taken to giggling a lot," he noted.   
  
"Well, if I have it's all your fault."   
  
"Just like everything else will be, I can tell."   
  
"No, I wouldn't blame *everything* on you."   
  
"Oh, of course not. Just all the things that matter." A brief staring contest ensued, followed by shy smiles and more kissing.   
  
That evening, as usual for this holiday, everyone ate at one large table, instead of five. A Ravenclaw third year sat to the left of the headmaster, who had done a splendid job at planning a party for Christmas night.   
  
"Under your plate you'll find a special prize," he said. "Go ahead, look now before all the food covers it."   
  
Draco lifted his plate carefully. Underneath was a large silver cracker. Looking around, he saw that everyone else had the same, but the contents were quite different when you opened it. His contained a Skiving Snackbox, some Fizzing Whizbees, a package of fireworks, and a tall green top hat, along with a large amount of confetti. He looked down the table to Hermione, whose hat was pointed and pink with a silk flowered veil trailing off the back. She looked disapprovingly at his Skiving Snackbox, but winked almost imperceptibly when he caught her eye.   
  
She was sitting next to Potter and Weasley, who had received variations of his hat. Weasley's had a large orange star attached to the front, and Potter's was overgrown with purple vines. The two of them were exchanging indescribable looks as they swapped Weasley's Every Flavor Beans with Potter's chocolate frogs.   
  
And dinner was delicious. *Not the usual anymore. The house elves have actually outdone themselves. Or that might just be my sudden elation, making the food taste better…* In all honesty, he could not tell.   
  
He nervously caught up to Dumbledore as they left the table. "Um, Headmaster?" he said awkwardly, catching his attention. Dumbledore turned his twinkling eyes on him.   
  
"Yes, Mister Malfoy?"   
  
"I- that is- I was wondering…if I could go to Hogsmeade…with…um- with Hermione," he said, looking at his feet. He chanced a quick look at Professor Dumbledore, who peered at him with interest.   
  
"I suspected something unexpected," he said cheerfully. "Ah, well, let me see. You are sixth years, both quite competent, I think you could do without a chaperone. You may go tomorrow, from noon to five of the clock in the evening. Is that satisfactory?"   
  
"Yes, thank you, Headmaster." Draco gave him a grateful half-smile before shuffling off toward the dungeons. Sagittus was waiting for him when he gave the wall the password.   
  
"You seem to be happy," the dark-haired boy said in a ringing monotone.   
  
"I am," Draco replied. "Thank you for helping me. I doubt I would have gotten her alone."   
  
"Don't mention it." Sagittus displayed a sly grin. "I hate to see a good guy wallowing in depression." He disappeared into his room, leaving Draco alone to think about his new relationship.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Do you have your cloak?" he asked. Hermione held it up in her right hand. "Put it on, then. Hurry up, we only have until five."   
  
"Where are we going?" she asked.   
  
"Hogsmeade. Come on." Draco took her hand and led her out the front door. She shivered when the cold December wind hit them, and he put his arm around her. He savored the feel of her body so close to his, comfortable to let him protect her from the chill air.   
  
They were both grateful to step into the Three Broomsticks, where a satisfying warmth hung in the room. They sat down at a table in the corner, and having ordered their butterbeers, started talking.   
  
"One of the best things about Hogsmeade the day after Christmas," Draco said, half-smiling, "is that no one is ever here."   
  
"I had noticed that it was empty," Hermione said. He looked up to catch her eye. "Draco, have you done your homework yet?"   
  
"Some of it. But I have enough time left in the holiday to do it. Especially since I have you to tell me all the right answers."   
  
"You've never needed me for the right answers." She frowned.   
  
"Why so unhappy? Is that a bad thing?" He sniggered. "Come on, Hermione. We're in Hogsmeade right now. Take your mind off of class. Just for a few hours."   
  
It took him only a very short time to get her to think of other things. They alternated between talking and staring deeply into each other's eyes. He felt that her soul was bared to him, and whenever he looked into those deep brown eyes, he could see it. His happiness, though already widely encompassing, had grown by the time they left the village.   
  
Until January seventh, they were as carefree as any couple could possibly be. They even found ways to sit next to each other during meals without being too suspicious. It was one thing to be horrible to Hermione to cover up his feeling to her, but quite another to do so to hide his feelings from everyone else- especially when she was doing the same. She admitted to him that she found it to be tedious but deliciously fun.   
  
He had agreed, and then they had wrestled. It started as any other wrestling match, and ended with just their tongues. Draco noticed how those deep kisses were intense but gentle, perfect in their almost-innocence. They were never desperate or searching on either of their accounts. Hermione always smiled warmly at him when pulling out of that kind of kiss. For him, that was incentive to initiate it.   
  
On the morning of January seventh, they sat in the common room together on one of the green leather couches. "This is going to be difficult," Hermione said, shifting slightly. One of her legs now draped across his.   
  
"I expect it will," Draco answered. "And we won't be able to see each other here any more."   
  
"I guess it's back to the ror," she sighed. "Ror" was their abbreviation for the Room of Requirement.   
  
"That won't be as bad as you make it sound," he said, laughing slightly.   
  
"I know. But I like being here. The Slytherin common room is much more comfortable than I had thought it would be. There's something very…private about it."   
  
"That changes when the rest of the school is here. Believe me, you wouldn't like it very much. Anyway, we can't get those cloudlike cushions here." They both grinned at the memory. Draco glanced at the clock. "It will only be a few minutes before they arrive. You should probably go back," he said unhappily.   
  
Hermione looked up at him. "Don't worry," she murmured. "I'll still be around." They shared a brief kiss, and she pushed herself off the couch and exited.   
  
"Exeunt my love," Draco sneered. The leaving was the worst part of it all.   
  
"She will be back."   
  
"Do you always have to know exactly what's going on, Sagittus?"   
  
"Yes. And we'll only be alone for another fifteen minutes or so. We might as well do this now. So tell me…"   
  
Draco refused to talk. He had to lock himself in the bathroom to get away from the inquisitive second year. When he did so, the mirror said, "You look rather happy and irritated. That's an odd combination, but it looks good on you."   
  
End Chapter 15  
  
I'm glad you all like this story so much! Which leads me to believe you might like my other stories…which leads me to yet again plug myself. I still need reviews for As Darkness Destroys us, just one of you, that's all I ask. It doesn't matter if you like it, or if you continue reading it. Just review the first chapter.   
  
On a side note, I have two questions, just for future reference:   
  
What is the maximum number of O.W.L.s?   
  
What are the required classes for every student? (I've got Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms, I just want to know if I'm missing any. Flying doesn't count because there's no O.W.L. for it.)  
  
I love my reviewers! Thank you! For reviewing! Review again! Please! Thank you! Review! Wow I'm driving myself crazy, I'll stop now. 


	17. The Aging Dragon's Own Place

Chapter 16- The Aging Dragon's Own Place  
  
Hermione did not miss the haste in the way Harry and Ron pulled apart when she entered the common room. *Maybe I should tell them. It's not fair to have them sneaking around when they don't have to.* She smiled ever so faintly as the portrait hole closed behind her.   
  
"So you're back, eh?" Ron said. He sounded thoroughly disappointed.   
  
"Yes. Am I that bad?"   
  
Harry pinched Ron in annoyance. "See? Now look what's happening."   
  
"What's happening?"   
  
"You, being insulted by Ron."   
  
"I was not insulting anybody!"   
  
"Well, I am insulted," Hermione said. They both stared at her for a moment. She knew she did not sound offended in the least. "I am insulted that you two don't think I'm smart."   
  
"Of course we do, Hermione, you're the smartest-"   
  
"Witch in the year," she finished. She turned and headed to the dorm. "Well, don't let me interrupt your little makeout session."   
  
She grinned at their shocked looks. Ron was gaping soundlessly, and Harry stuttered, "But how…how did you know?"   
  
"You two just aren't very good at hiding things. Oh, come on. I see you every day. You guys have been throwing each other suggestive and affectionate looks for a month. I'm surprised Professor Binns hasn't noticed."   
  
"That would be something," Ron said. "We don't even take History of Magic anymore."   
  
"You won't tell anyone, will you, Hermione?" Harry asked.   
  
"Not if you don't want me to… Ginny knows, doesn't she?"   
  
"Yes. Figures, huh? She knew almost right away. We aren't really ready to -come out- to the entire school yet. Ron's still trying to figure out a way to tell his family and not have the twins find out."   
  
Hermione nodded. "I can see what you mean. All right, well, I'll be in my room."   
  
"Wait. Um, Hermione, where have you been this whole vacation?"   
  
She turned around, raising her eyebrows. "So you *did* notice I was gone?"   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco entered the ror on January seventeenth and was met with a rather surprising sight. Silver and gold silk streamers hung from the ceiling, white balloons floated in the air, and a *very* romantic candlelit dinner was set up on a two-person table in the center of the room. Hermione was seated at this table, but when she saw him enter, she rose with a smile.   
  
"Happy seventeenth birthday, Draco." She gave him a quick kiss and gestured to the table.   
  
"You remembered," he said in amazement.   
  
"Of course I remembered. This is an important day, you know." They sat opposite one another. The main course was something Italian that Draco had never heard of, involving chicken and vegetables and angel hair pasta. He barely noticed that it was delicious, being too busy staring at Hermione's face in the candlelight.   
  
When they had finished, a plate of rich fudge appeared before them. On each square was written "Happy Birthday, Draco" in white frosting. "You're wonderful," he said. He bit into the chocolate, sighing with contentment. "I've never had a birthday celebration like this."   
  
"I'm sure the ones when you were little-"   
  
"I didn't have any real friends when I was little. And nobody ever made any effort to make an party enjoyable for me. That's why this is so amazing. It's all for me." He smiled lovingly at her.   
  
"Well, that's not all," she said. "I have another present for you."   
  
"I can honestly say that after this, anything else is extravagant."   
  
Hermione blushed, and the roses in her cheeks lingered. He tried to take his eyes off her, but it was hopeless. She was a magnet for his gaze. He did look down, however, when she put something into his hand.   
  
"Keys?" three keys with different color heads hung on a small ring. He glanced up at her again, waiting for an explanation.   
  
"I looked around for vacant flats in London," she mumbled. She would not meet his eyes, but she blushed deeply. "I found a very nice one close to Diagon Alley. I paid the rent for it up through April, so you won't have to worry about it for a while, but I leased it under your name. I knew you wanted your own place, away from your father…"   
  
She chanced a look at him. He was gazing raptly at the gift in his hand, but he saw her look up and met her eyes. "This…Hermione," he breathed. He did not know what to say. She saw this, and stood with him. They stood for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms.   
  
"This means more to me than you could possibly know," he said. He cupped her cheek in one hand, and held the keys in the other. "I'm of age, *and* I have a guaranteed home when I leave my father's house. This is- more than I would have thought to ask from you."   
  
What he did not say, but he thought, was, *You love me, I know you love me. If you didn't you wouldn't have done this for me. You may not admit it to yourself for a while now, nor to me for even longer, but I know you love me.* He would never say this to her.  
  
"So now dinner's over, desert's over, and you've given me my present," he said, counting off on his fingers. "What do you want to do?"   
  
"Can we just cuddle?"  
  
"I would love to." They sat in an armchair that had just appeared. As they shifted into comfortable positions, the structure seemed to change to accommodate them. "I could get used to chairs like this," Draco remarked.   
  
"You mean chairs with me in them?" Hermione said sweetly.   
  
He laughed. "Yeah. That's exactly what I mean." He leaned down to kiss her. "Thank you."   
  
"You have to promise you'll invite me over once in a while."   
  
"Are you kidding? I'd let you live there. I'll make an extra set of keys, and you can have them. Come to my flat whenever you want."   
  
She stretched her back slightly, resting his hand over hers. "It sounds wonderful." She was silent for a while, as though debating with herself. Finally, she sighed. "Draco, you remember the talk about the essence of Magic. And of course you know that your Patronus takes the shape of a dragon. I found it…unusual how much your name connects to your essence. How did your mother come up with it?"   
  
"I've been waiting for someone to ask me that," he said. "It seems only natural that someone would notice. She told me once that she had a dream while she was pregnant with me. She was giving birth to a baby dragon. Oh, not in a creepy nightmare way," he added quickly. "It was more of a natural, symbolic sort of human-giving-birth-to-dragon dream. You know the type."   
  
"Oh, sure. I have those all the time."   
  
"The sarcasm is not helping. She realized what the dream meant the moment she woke up- I still don't know how. And so she named me Draco. Now, I'd like to ask you something. How *ever* did you get a name like Hermione?"   
  
She rolled her eyes. "My mother liked the name, I suppose. She wanted to name me Desdemona, but my father said, 'We don't want to torture the poor girl'. So they settled on Hermione."   
  
"Well, you make it beautiful." He leaned close to her. He could smell her hair now. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus intoxicated him. Strange, he had never thought much of the combination, but it smelled so good when it was part of Hermione.   
  
"We should go now," she said. Neither of them moved. It had to be after nine o'clock.   
  
"No," Draco murmured. He did not ever want to leave, to have this perfect night end. "Stay here."   
  
"Draco, we have to go. Really."   
  
He felt suddenly cold when she left his arms. "Hey, Hermione. What's the address for the flat?"   
  
"Oh! I had forgotten. Here, I'll write it on this napkin." She did, and handed it to him. "Have a good night, Draco."   
  
With one last kiss she departed. Draco looked down at the napkin, reading the address of his new flat, but he did not truly comprehend it at that moment. He was still too stunned by what Hermione had done for him to actually think.   
  
End Chapter 16  
  
To some of you: I'm sorry this took so long, I don't know why reviews have recently gotten kind of slow. Plus DSL sucks so getting online is iffy. But I'm glad you like my story (still) the good news is, I got to catch up on my writing. Guess for which story!  
  
Ok, to my reviewers, the ones who are going to review as soon as they finish this sentence, red star-shaped confetti!! 


	18. The Great Secret Keeper

Chapter 17- The Great Secret-Keeper  
  
"You've got to stop staring at it, Hermione," Ginny said. "You haven't even studied for N.E.W.T.s for a whole month!"   
  
"Oh, stop it, Ginny. I just can't help it. I love this picture. It was such a wonderful gift."   
  
"Who gave it to you? Do you know?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"Well, who?"   
  
"How was vacation at Seamus's?" Hermione asked brightly.   
  
"Oh, no. You're not getting away from this one. Come on, tell me. You know I'm bound to find out sooner or later anyway." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows, flopping onto her stomach on Hermione's bed.   
  
She desperately wanted to tell someone. Keeping secrets of such magnitude was not in her nature. "No, Ginny. I promised not to tell. I'm not ready, anyway. I promise, though, you'll be the first to know."   
  
"I think you just don't want to tell me."   
  
"I don't want to tell *anyone*, Gin. If I did, it would be you for sure."   
  
"So you know about Harry and Ron, eh?"   
  
"Of course. I figured it out in, like, a week."   
  
"I thought you would. Did you ever expect it?"   
  
"No, not really. But I was not really surprised after I thought about it."   
  
"I was," Ginny said. "Enough about them."   
  
"Let's talk about you."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"I've barely heard anything about you and Seamus. Tell me, what was his house like, what are his parents like?"   
  
"His mother's wonderful. She knows almost everything about cooking. She could give the house elves here a run for their money. His dad's a Muggle, but obviously he's one of the better ones…like your parents. I just mean open-minded. You know, having married a witch…"   
  
"I know, Ginny," Hermione said impatiently. "Continue."   
  
"Well, his house is a little larger than ours, and it's definitely nicer. Almost everything is green, white and orange. Like the Irish flag. They even have a leprechaun living in the yard. The bathrooms are especially nice…"   
  
"Um, Ginny? I don't really need every detail."   
  
"How about the bedrooms? That's the best part. They're all on one side of the second floor- there are four- aside from the master bedroom on the third floor. They all have doors between them, so they all connect. Each one is in a different shade of green. The beds are quite large, and the closets have these old magical gadgets in them that do all sorts of things. If you saw it, you'd want to live there forever."   
  
Hermione grinned. "I doubt it," she said. "Though I don't doubt that *you* would."   
  
"And Seamus was great, of course. We spent the entire vacation together. It was quite the…experience." That reminded Hermione strangely of her description of her first wrestle with Draco.   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Well, I mean we were usually unsupervised, so we had plenty of time to…experiment." Ginny winked and flashed a grin. Hermione's eyes widened. "We didn't do anything like that!" she laughed. "We just learned a few things about each other, likes, dislikes, things like that. It was actually quite useful for things we might do in the future."   
  
"I'm sure I don't want any more details," Hermione said.   
  
"And I'm sure you're not going to get them. That works nicely." Ginny looked again at Hermione's portrait. "Have Lavender and Parvati seen that yet?"   
  
"Merlin, no. I don't want it to be broadcasted, thank you." She wondered what Draco would say if he heard from Pansy Parkinson that "the Mudblood has an admirer!".   
  
"Valentine's Day is coming up," Ginny sighed. "I wonder what Seamus and I will do. You know," she said suddenly, propping herself up on her elbows, "I could probably find you a Valentine's Day date, if you want. I know lots of guys who would want to go out with you."   
  
"No, Ginny," Hermione said, feeling dreamily happy. "I already have one."   
  
"You are honestly in love." Ginny shook her head.   
  
"I'm in like. It's not the same."   
  
"You're falling. Whether you want to see it or not, you will love him."   
  
"I suppose…"   
  
"Who is it? Why is it such a big deal that you don't want me to know? Don't you trust me?" She fluttered her eyelashes, sticking out her lower lip in an attractive pout.   
  
"Hermione!" someone called from below. "Hermione! HERMIONE!"   
  
She descended just far enough to see Ron at the bottom of the stairs to the girl's dorm. "What?"   
  
"Can I borrow your Potions homework?"   
  
"No. You should have done it when it was assigned, instead of doing everything at the last minute."   
  
"Just to check answers! You always assume I haven't done it."   
  
"Show it to me, then you can check your answers with mine." Five minutes later, Hermione had finally gotten rid of Ron, and with him her Potions homework.   
  
Ginny had a pondering look on her face. She tapped her chin sporadically.   
  
"What's wrong, Ginny?"   
  
"I'm just trying to think why you wouldn't want to tell anyone who you're with. It's not, say, Draco Malfoy, is it?"   
  
"Ginny!" Hermione glanced into the hallway. No one had been near. She closed the door. "You have to promise not to tell anyone, all right? We really weren't even planning to tell anyone this year. And especially don't tell Harry and Ron. I don't even want to think about their reactions…Ginny?"   
  
Ginny was gaping at her. Finally she managed to get out, "You mean it *is* Malfoy?"   
  
Hermione stared at the girl staring at her. "You didn't- you didn't figure it out?"   
  
"I suggested it as a joke! I had no idea you were going out with Malfoy! Oh, Merlin, that sounds so strange."   
  
"Ginny, I can explain the whole thing. You don't understand him."   
  
"It's all right, Hermione. You can tell me later."   
  
"No, I want to tell you now," Hermione said firmly. "You're judging me, and I don't like it. I want to tell you what I learned about him."   
  
When Ginny had sat, Hermione explained how she and Draco had started talking, and all she had learned about him. "He acts that way out of fear of his father. You see why you can't tell anyone, at least until he's left his parents' home? He has to be allowed to keep up his façade, because if he doesn't, then I don't know what Lucius Malfoy will do."   
  
"How do you know he's not just telling you that?"   
  
"Look into his eyes, Ginny. I know. But you promise not to tell anyone, don't you?"   
  
"Of course. Keeping *two* couples' secrets. But if I found out he's hurt you, I will tell Harry and Ron, and they'll probably kill him."   
  
"I suppose I can't stop you, if you're that determined," Hermione said with a sigh. "Short of that, you won't tell. I *know* you won't."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Damn Gryffindor and their high Quidditch scores. Slytherin had just won their last match, against Ravenclaw, but unless Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor by a considerable amount, Gryffindor would win the cup. Which meant, by all accounts, that Gryffindor was going to win the Quidditch cup, for the third year.   
  
Hufflepuff was always a fairly easy match. Draco had caught the snitch easily, and the rest of the team had performed well. He had been disappointed that Hermione would not be there, but he had agreed that it would look suspicious if she went to a Quidditch match that did not include Gryffindor. She had never gone to them in the past.   
  
The hot water felt like heaven on his skin. He let it cleanse him of thought, and stood there while waves of warmth washed over him. His muscles loosened in the heat, all the tension of the day just sloughed off. Hot showers were one of his favorite things.   
  
As he was pulling on a shirt in his room, Sagittus found him. "We need to talk about something, Draco," he said seriously. "Valentine's Day."   
  
"What are you, obsessed with my love life?"   
  
"Shut up and pay attention. This kind of thing is important to girls. Now, some of them like a bunch of mushy stuff on Valentine's, but others don't like it at all. You've got to find out what she likes, and then give it to her. She might be the kind of girl who just wants a card, a box of chocolate, and a good makeout. She might, however, like flowers and an elaborate date. You'll have to ask her."   
  
"Sagittus, leave me alone."   
  
"Suit yourself. I'm just trying to prepare you."   
  
Draco watched him leave. He knew the kid was right, he was just annoyed at being told what to do. Therefore, he went off to find Hermione and figure out Valentine's Day immediately.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
The ror looked a lot like the Slytherin common room that day, but with white couches and red hearts hanging everywhere. When Hermione entered, Draco held out one dozen red roses, fresh from Narcissa's garden. "Happy Valentine's Day."   
  
"Thank you, Draco," she smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss.   
  
"You realize that this isn't anything different from what we always do?"   
  
"Just with a Valentine's Day theme," Hermione said. "How's your homework doing?"   
  
"Not that again. My grades have skyrocketed since I started talking to you. Do you have to talk about school *all* the time?"   
  
"N.E.W.T.s are only a little more than a year away, you know. You can't afford *not* to think about school."   
  
"On Valentine's Day, I only want to think about one thing," he said. "You."   
  
"Well, if you insist." She giggled.   
  
"I was thinking," Draco suggested, "that we could try a different form of wrestling."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Just- go with me," he said, pulling her down to the cushiony carpet. She went willingly.   
  
They rolled over each other, shifting, grappling, but it was all gentle and sensual. Draco was pleased with his idea, and it seemed that Hermione was, as well. They continued until they ran out of breath, at which point they lay beside each other, their chests heaving.   
  
Hermione rolled toward him, resting her head on his arm. "I'm going to need that, you know," he said, wiggling his arm slightly.   
  
"For what?" she asked, in a sugary, ditzy voice.   
  
"I hope you're not getting stupider."   
  
"Happy Valentine's Day."   
  
End Chapter 17   
  
  
  
Okay, so maybe this chapter is a little short. I think the next one's longer, anyway. Well, yeah, so I must say I am overwhelmed by reviews!! I had no less than *8* reviews for the last chapter when I signed on today!! It's like, wow, people really like me!! I want to thank everyone who complimented my writing, and the story, and oh hell I'll just thank everyone. Thank you!!   
  
Warning: if AOL is still all screwy, posting will be irregular. Sorry if I can't get online.   
  
More confetti to reviewers!! I don't know, let's say in the shape of Draco's head. 


	19. Combining the Essences and Wandless

Chapter 18- Combining the Essences and Wandless  
  
"Let me return to my color analogy," Professor Winkly said without prelude. "When you combine shades of red and blue, you will be rewarded with any number of lovely shades of purple. When you combine other colors, such as yellow and brown, the color you are then left with is not so pretty."   
  
"This same general rule applies to the combination of essences, though in the sense of chemistry. The essence of one person will have a wonderful reaction with one other, while the mixture of that same person with the next will be nothing any of you want to see. Some essences combine well, others do not. It helps if the essences belong to people who get on well."   
  
"Because of the differences in a Dark wizard's essence and that of a White wizard, their essences combined often cancel each other out, leaving the spell cast useless. Of course, it is rare that the two would try to cast a spell together, under any circumstances. It takes the cooperation of both wizards to do this."   
  
"Why would you want to combine essences? Usually for the sake of power. When two essences combine, the power of the spell is increased twofold according to the amount of power of each essence. That is to say, two wizards of equal power can cast a spell four times as powerful as one of those same wizards alone."   
  
"There *are* other advantages, though few and not as pronounced," Professor Winkly continued. "One is a certain connection formed between the two wizards or witches, or witch and wizard. When they cast a spell together, a trace of one person's essence is left on the other's. That is why it is not to be used lightly. You would not want that kind of connection with certain people. I suggest, therefore, that you only combine essences in the most dire of emergencies."   
  
"The one other property of essence combination is the physical essence left by the force of the spell. Depending on the nature of the essences of the wizards, it could be liquid, vapor, or something quasi-solid, though the last form is rare, and can have different functions. Some heal, others kill. I have even heard of one that made you sprout purple hair from your nose if you got any in your ear. But I digress. That is a reason to combine, but it is nearly impossible to predict what will come of it. It is a risk to do it at all."   
  
"There are some spells that require two essences, and they are combined in such a way that the results I have just mention are not seen. One such spell is the manufacture of Promise Rings. These are in Chapter seven of 'Alternate Magic'. Each set of Promise Rings is identical, but different from any other set. The physical form of the Promise Rings depends upon the essences of the two, or something that affects the essences. There is a requirement to make them, and even many who meet this requirement do not attempt. Of course, that could be because many have never heard of them before."   
  
"Combining essences is not something I feel we should practice here, but learning the theory is important. It may save your life one day. The application of combining your essence with that of another…"   
  
Draco was still listening, but he was not paying close attention. He could always borrow Hermione's notes later. He peered toward the front of the room, where Hermione was sitting with Harry and Ron.   
  
*Did I just call them by their first names? Bloody…* Well, it was not so bad. As long as he never said it out loud until they started acting that way to him. *Right. Now, back to staring.*   
  
  
  
Their next Defense class was much more interesting to him, because he would actually be able to use it.   
  
"All wizards and witches have the innate ability to perform spells without a wand. That is where accidental Magic comes from, this ability. Before you learn to control Magic in any sense, it manifests unintentionally. Even after you learn to control it, accidents *can* happen due to extreme emotions. When you learn wandless Magic, to your fullest potential, these accidents virtually disappear."   
  
"The spells you can perform without a wand range from a simple Summoning Spell all the way to the Killing Curse. However, very few actually progress to the highest level. It takes a certain amount of power and intent in order to use spells like the Killing Curse with a wand to direct your Magic. Without this direction, some find it incredibly difficult to focus the spells. Unfocused wandless Magic can cause worse accidents than trying to use spells before you know how to control them."   
  
"The best part about wandless Magic is that you gain the ability to perform two spells simultaneously. With my double-cored wand, this lets me sustain three spells. But for you, two is all."   
  
"For most of you, a hand motion will be required when you begin, in order to make the wandless spell work. For instance-" Professor Winkly waved his hand, and a book floated off the table. He made a downward motion, and it settled back into position. "But when you have a good grasp of what is required, a simple thought will do. Well, it is not really *simple*, but it is all you will need." He lifted the same book from the table, this time without even looking at it. It levitated a foot above his head while he next spoke. "The first thing I want you to do is to set your wand down. Good. Levitation is one of the simplest spells most of you have learned, and is therefore one of the easiest you can manage without a wand. Try it now."   
  
Draco was quite surprised when his wand hovered before his eyes. It remained in the air for the rest of the class, while he sat back and watched the other students try to get their wands to do more than wiggle a bit on the desk. He observed Hermione's wand rise up before her. She turned triumphantly, only to see that his wand too was floating. Her smile changed to one of appreciation, and he smiled briefly back.   
  
By the end of the class, less than half of them had managed to perform the assigned task. "Don't be discouraged," the professor said, smiling. "Not everyone can manage on the first try. Some can only do the simplest spells in wandless form. It all depends on the wizard. For next class, I would like you to practice, and be able to levitate any object without use of a wand. That is all for this class."   
  
As he predicted from his success in class, Draco was soon able to lift all manner of objects with his mind. He practiced with Hermione every day in the ror.   
  
"This does not even approach funny, Draco," she said, crossing her arms.   
  
"You know," he grinned, "it's hard to take you seriously when you're floating."   
  
Her face grew more annoyed, and she took out her wand. With a slight flick, she let herself down. "When you can do that without a wand, then we'll be on a level," Draco said seriously.   
  
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that," she huffed.   
  
After a moment, Draco pulled her toward him and hugged her. "It doesn't matter, Hermione. You can do *everything* else. What's one little thing?"   
  
"But you can do it!"   
  
"It depends on the person. You heard Professor Winkly. Come on, don't get depressed over this."   
  
"I am *not* depressed. Just annoyed."   
  
"We could do something to take your mind off it," he suggested. She looked up at him, smiling. Every time he had said something along those lines, she had willingly complied. Apparently, perfect little Hermione was fascinated with intimacy. It was not something he had expected from her, but once he got to know her it was somewhat less surprising.   
  
"Draco, how long are we going to keep this to ourselves?" she whispered.   
  
"As long as we have to," he murmured between kisses. "I promise I'll leave home this summer, now that I definitely have a place to stay. Then, we can tell the whole world if you want."   
  
She succumbed to his lips, and they sank to the comfort of the sofa. "Wait, Draco. I need to check the time." He kept his eyes on her as she looked at the clock. "Oh, no, it's almost eight. I still haven't finished my Transfiguration essay."   
  
"That's not due for two weeks."   
  
"I know. I should have finished it last weekend."   
  
He rolled his eyes. "I'm leaving first this time," he said. "I don't want to be in here alone anymore." With a last stolen kiss, he opened the door to the ror. The hallway was empty, as usual.   
  
"Well, what are we doing so far from our common room at this hour?" Filch asked from behind him.   
  
Containing his sneer, Draco turned to face the caretaker. "As far as I'm aware, curfew is not until nine, and so I have at least an hour before that is any concern of yours," he said calmly. Filch gave him an evil look, but passed on without saying anything else.   
  
"One of these days," Draco muttered, making sure no one could hear. "I would really like to dish out some of that man's stuff to him. I bet he wouldn't like the taste any more than I do. Gave me a detention for walking too close to his office without being summoned there. What a prat."   
  
*Why am I thinking about Hogwarts staff right now? Good thing I don't have prefect duty tonight, I'd probably go crazy. Too much to do.*   
  
"Well, *someone* woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," the bathroom mirror commented wryly. "Maybe a nice hot shower will cheer you up?"  
  
A hot shower probably *would* cheer him up…he began to remove his clothes.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"That is not fair," Hermione said. "You can both do it, too?"   
  
Ron and Harry were practicing floating stacks of their schoolbooks. "It's not hard at all," Ron said, happy for once to be doing homework. "You'll be able to do it too. You just need more practice."   
  
"The best I can do is one object at a time," Hermione said. "Any more, and it's hopeless. I don't know why I'm having so much trouble with this."   
  
"Why does it matter so much?" Harry asked. "You don't have to be good at everything. After all, you're terrible at Quidditch, but you don't complain about *that*."   
  
She gave him a withering look. "That is completely different. Quidditch is not important."   
  
"Not important? Hermione, you've gone mental," Ron said, shocked.   
  
"*Gone* mental?" Harry muttered.   
  
"I heard that, Harry. And it was not funny."   
  
"Yes it was, just ask Ron." Ron, at that moment, was shaking with silent laughter. "See? He says it was, in fact, hilarious."   
  
Rolling her eyes, shaking her head, and glaring all at once, she stomped to her room, slamming the door shut behind her, only to find Ginny lying across her bed facedown. "Ginny? Are you okay?"   
  
The redheaded girl looked up, and Hermione saw her tear-stained face. She rushed to her side hastily. "What happened?"   
  
"I saw Seamus snogging Lavender Brown in the library," Ginny sniffed bluntly.   
  
"What? Why would he do that? You two were in love two months ago."   
  
"Well, I guess ditzy blondes are more his type than capable redheads. I should have seen this coming. He's been eyeing Lavender for weeks now." She sighed. "I shouldn't have let myself get so attached. I don't know what I was thinking."   
  
"Ginny, don't say that. Opening yourself up to someone like that is one of the bravest things you can do. Seamus cares about you, you'll see."   
  
"*You* can talk. You've got a devoted madman, not some cheating Gryffindor."   
  
"Ginny! For one thing, Draco is not mad. For another, you sounded like a Slytherin, the way you just said 'Gryffindor'. You cannot let this one bad experience sour you on relationships. First, before you do anything else, talk to Seamus. I don't know if you will stay together or not, but you have to straighten this out."   
  
"I think I will," Ginny lowered her eyebrows. "I need to give him a piece of my mind. He won't get off lightly."   
  
"Ginny…maybe you should wait before you talk to him."   
  
"No, I want him to know exactly how angry I am. It's only fair. If he wants to go breaking girls' hearts, he's going to have to pay the consequences."   
  
Ginny left Hermione's bedroom quickly. A few minutes later, shouting could be heard downstairs. "She's found Seamus," she said to herself. "I just hope this doesn't end too badly."   
  
The next day at breakfast, Seamus had one arm draped around Ginny's shoulders. She smiled mistily at him every once in a while, and they shared slow kisses. Ron gagged, Harry laughed at Ron's reaction, and Hermione smiled.   
  
She was glad that Ginny was happy.   
  
End Chapter 18   
  
Thank you, profusely, for your reviews. Love and Hugs and confetti.   
  
Sunday is the earliest date for my next posting, I'm going to W. Hartford for a con. Yay, cons!!!!!!! Anyway, so don't look for chapter 19 till then.   
  
Now go review. You can have some cupcake confetti. 


	20. In the Air

Chapter 19- In the Air  
  
Hermione rushed out that day to meet Draco at the Quidditch pitch. It was warm for mid-April, but she took her cloak along just in case. It was another Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the students who were allowed were conveniently gone once again.  
  
He was in the air when she arrived. She assumed that he was practicing for Quidditch, before remembering that Slytherin had no more matches this year. Watching him spin quickly in the air, changing direction in a snap, she realize that he was showing off for her.   
  
He went into a steep dive, intent on the ground below him. She nervously watched. It did not seem that he would have enough time to pull out. "Draco!" she cried when he came close to impact. He leveled off, slowing down as he approached her.   
  
"Don't ever do that again!" she demanded breathily.   
  
"Certainly, mother," he said gravely, before breaking into a grin. "Give me a kiss or I won't listen to you today."   
  
She did, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. She could not help smiling when they pulled away.   
  
"So what did you think?"   
  
"I think it looks very dangerous, as always, and I would really prefer you didn't do it."   
  
"Hermione, it's not that dangerous," he said. "Really. As long as you know how to control the broom, there is no more risk than…having a pet flobberworm." She raised her eyebrows knowingly. "All right, more risk than *that*, but no more with the tricks than without them. I've not fallen off a broom for years. Nothing is going to happen to me."   
  
"Is there any way you could guarantee that?" Hermione muttered. There was a reason she had never liked brooms. She knew her parents would never let her fly, had she been able to do so in the first place.   
  
"I don't think so…but I do have one idea." He took her hand and pulled her closer. She was curious when he did not lean in to kiss her, but horrified when she realized what he meant.   
  
"Draco, no- I can't."   
  
"Trust me. I want to show you what flying can be like. I won't let anything happen to you."   
  
"But it will be more dangerous for two people. Brooms are only made for one."   
  
"This broom can carry at least two people, just not for a very long time. Besides, you're only a tiny extra person," he grinned. She gave a nervous half-smile. "Come on. You will enjoy it, that I do guarantee."   
  
Before she knew what was happening, she had mounted the broom in front of Draco. Her heart was beating wildly. "Draco, I don't know. I'm scared."   
  
"You're safe with me," he said in her ear, and kicked off from the ground.   
  
She felt unsteady, even with Draco behind her. "No- not so high! Draco, let me down!"   
  
"Shh, Hermione, stop moving. You're going to tip us over."   
  
Her eyes widened. "That is not comforting."   
  
"It won't happen if you relax. Here, put your hands on the broom."   
  
She did, and felt better with the grip. She felt one of his arms encircle her waist, while the other controlled the broomstick. They flew steadily higher, and Hermione shut her eyes after having looked down briefly.   
  
She heard a voice in her ear. "Open your eyes, Hermione. You're missing it."   
  
She was dazzled. The sky was just beginning to turn. Subtle shades of purple, green, and orange had started to creep their way into the sky. They watched as the colors brightened and deepened.   
  
Draco suddenly began to fly them around the pitch. Becoming accustomed to the movements of flying, Hermione was able to enjoy the wind on her face, the sensation of being so high in the air with no plausible support. She knew, though, that she would never have felt the same had Draco not been behind her.   
  
"Do you want to take us down?" he asked eventually.   
  
"I think I might kill us," she said.   
  
He laughed. "You won't kill us. Listen, you might have to fly on a broom someday, you might not have a choice in the matter. If you don't learn, then how are you going to survive *that*? It's not as hard as you're thinking. We don't have to go anywhere but down, so just push down on the handle lightly. Lightly, or we might do into too steep a dive."   
  
Nervously, she leaned her weight on the broom. Draco's hand left the handle as his arm joined the other around her waist. Falling did not seem like an option. Excited, she pushed a little harder. The broom plummeted, and she screamed.   
  
A little of the pressure around her middle loosened, and their descent was halted. She turned slightly, enough to see Draco's look. "I'm sorry, I told you I don't know what I'm doing!"   
  
"Don't try a dive until you actually know how to fly," he said affectionately. "There's only a small distance to the ground. Why don't you finish."   
  
Hermione felt an immense relief when her feet touched the ground. "I don't think I'll ever do that again."   
  
He took the broom up in his hand. "But don't you think it was worth it that one time?"   
  
An appreciative smile was her thanks to him. "Very much. It was beautiful."   
  
"Any time you want a good view of a sunset, I'll be here."   
  
"Any time you want something to gloat about, you can take me flying," she joked.   
  
"I might take you up on that offer," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.   
  
"I was not serious!"   
  
"So I don't get to gloat?"   
  
"Just taunt me about wandless magic. That should be good enough."   
  
"Oh, but it's so much fun scaring you half to death. Then I get to comfort you. And I get an excuse to hug you from behind for an extended period of time. What more could a guy ask for?" Draco looked at her expectantly.   
  
"I should have expected you to say that, I suppose," she sighed.   
  
"Yes, you really should have. If you really knew me…"   
  
"Can I have a hug?" she asked. A sudden chill had come over her, and she felt the need for comforting arms. Draco, in his usual wonderful way, sensed what she wanted, put his broom on the ground, and embraced her. She sank into the support of his hug, standing safe and warm near the Slytherin locker room.   
  
"I love you, Hermione," he said. "Anything you want from me, just ask."   
  
Despite her contentment, she thought she might cry. She was getting the feeling that she would soon go for quite a while lacking in good feelings. Lacking in Draco Malfoy.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Is two hours long enough for a broom polishing?" Harry wondered.   
  
"Nothing's too long for a Firebolt, Harry, but I think my Cleansweep's had all the polishing it can take. Let's go out, come on."   
  
They never got the chance for a go on their newly polished brooms. As soon as they stepped out onto the pitch, they saw a figure in the air. The pale, slicked hair was unmistakable. "Malfoy, just our luck. Doesn't he go to Hogsmeade?" Ron snarled.   
  
"I guess we should go," Harry said. "No point running into the enemy if we don't have to…is that who I think it is, sitting in front of him?"   
  
Ron looked. Clearly, Ron saw what he had seen. "It's Hermione," Harry stated.   
  
"What is she doing on *Malfoy's* broom?" Ron snapped. He stared up, looking surly.   
  
"I'm not sure, but it looks like she is enjoying herself."   
  
"Enjoying herself! If this is not the foulest prank-"   
  
"Ron, stop. That's definitely Hermione, and she's definitely having fun. We'll confront her about it later. For now, just leave it alone."   
  
They replaced their brooms in their proper positions. Harry had only kept Ron from flying up to them for the sake of Ron's school career. If Ron actually killed Malfoy, then he would surely be expelled. The truth was, he was just as angry as Ron. What was Hermione doing? Had she forgotten that Malfoy had called her a Mudblood on countless occasions, insulted Ron's and his own family so many times Harry didn't want to think about it, been horrible, evil, and sniveling since the day they had met him?   
  
Did she not remember whose side she was on?  
  
End Chapter 19   
  
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! I have now surpassed one hundred reviews for this story. I feel so loved. HUGS!!   
  
Thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed. Erica- I'm glad you noticed that about Come What May. There are two reasons I picked it. One is because it goes with the story, and the other is because I love it!!!   
  
I'll be posting again within two days no matter what. Unless I can't get online, but that problem was taken care of so I shouldn't have one. Yay.   
  
So, please review this chapter. You can have some chocolate confetti. :) 


	21. Avoiding These Feelings

Chapter 20- Avoiding These Feelings  
  
When Draco had put his broom away, Hermione left him for the Gryffindor common room. The students who had visited Hogsmeade were just beginning to arrive, bright-eyed and laughing about their day. Among these enthusiastic conversers were Ron and Harry, waiting for Hermione by the portrait hole.   
  
"We need to talk to you, Hermione," Ron said immediately. He did not look very happy.   
  
"All right. Where?" she asked wearily. If he was about to yell at her for something or other, she did not want the rest of the House to hear.   
  
"My room. We would go to yours, but you know how the girls' dormitory is."   
  
Harry gave her a sympathetic look as they climbed the stairs. *This can't be good*, she thought. Ron closed the door firmly once they were all inside. He whirled on Hermione, but before he could speak, Harry made a suggestion.   
  
"Maybe you should sit down, Hermione. And…You and Ron should probably not be on the same side of the room."   
  
Hermione sat on the bed, now deeply curious. Ron shot Harry an annoyed glare before dropping his bomb. "Hermione, we saw you on the Quidditch pitch with Malfoy. What were you doing?"   
  
She opened her mouth, but closed it again. She thought they had been careful, but apparently it was not enough. *We should have prepared for this situation. But what would be a plausible explanation except for the truth?*   
  
"Are you and Malfoy…together?" Harry asked.   
  
Hermione looked at Harry. He did not look angry, but curious. And concerned. She did not know how to tell her two best friends that she was going steady with their arch-nemesis, so she merely nodded.   
  
It was then that Ron's bomb exploded. "Malfoy?! Are you kidding? How could you possibly *like* him? Are you forgetting all the horrible things he's done?" Hermione looked at the rug. Water gathered in her eyes, but hovered there, not falling, not giving her relief. They stung her, but she could not blink them back. "This is Malfoy we're talking about, who's called you a Mudblood on more than many occasions, who insults Harry and me and our families at every chance, who has gotten us more detentions that I kept track of, who's a pureblood maniac, whose father is a *Death Eater*, who- Harry, aren't you going to say something?"   
  
Hermione glanced at Harry, who was looking at her strangely. "How long have you been with him?" Hermione bit her lip. "Hermione? How long?"   
  
"Christmas," she whispered.   
  
"What?! You've been hiding this from us for four months!! How could you hide something like this?" Ron was not about to act rationally.   
  
"Because I knew how you two would act!! I knew you would get angry and maybe even start hating me!" The tears that had tortured her now spilled over. Her vision was blurred, and she felt like two waterfalls were cascading down her face.   
  
"How should we act, Hermione? Malfoy- Merlin, I can't believe this! After all he's done to you, to us, how could you give him a chance?"   
  
"You don't know him!" she cried angrily. "I've been talking to him since almost the beginning of term, and I've learned a lot about him. He is much more complicated than you think. And he is *not* a pureblood maniac. He hates his father! He hates his life, and for good reason! But you would never take the time to get to know him, would you!"   
  
"Hermione-" Harry began.   
  
"You would be happy if he died! Admit it! You've hated him since you first met him! He's not anything like you think. Nobody knows him, nobody but me, and if they did they wouldn't care, because of his reputation. If you really knew him, you would not be acting like complete gits! But I don't care! I don't care what *either* of you think! You have each other now, you don't need me! And I-"   
  
She cut herself off, unwilling to speak aloud the thoughts she had been having.   
  
"You what?" Ron snapped. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. She was still crying; the tears just would not stop.   
  
"What do you care?" she hissed, and stormed out of the room.   
  
"Hermione!" Ron called after her, but she did not turn.   
  
Harry caught up with her in the hallway. She spun quickly to face him. "What?"   
  
He still wore that same confusing, concerned look. "I want you to know, I don't feel the same as Ron. I'm not really sure what to think, to tell the truth. I was angry at first, but I had time to think about it. You're by no means stupid, you wouldn't let yourself get involved with Malfoy, the way he acted before. The truth is, I have noticed a change in him, though I never could tell what it was. Now I know, it's you."   
  
"I'm worried about you, though. He may not be the same person he was, or he may never have been the person he was, but I still don't trust him. I want you to promise to be careful."  
  
"I am careful. I'm always careful. Harry, why are you so calm about this?"   
  
"I figure someone has to balance Ron's anger. No, really, I want you to be happy. I never expected that would be with Malfoy, but I never expected to like Ron as more than a friend, either."   
  
They stopped when a fourth year passed them. Both of them watched him disappear. Hermione let everything sink in. Her tears were slower now, but they were no less continuous.   
  
"Whatever makes you happy has to be a good thing. But I think…I don't think it's a good idea for you not to be around a lot, or for you to be seen with Malfoy."   
  
"Might ruin my reputation?"   
  
"No. I'm worried about what Ron might do. He's in a very murderous state of mind. I distinctly heard him say, 'If I see her with him, I swear I'll kill him'. Direct quote. And I don't want you to be caught up in that. But you should have seen him before. He was about to burst his way into the Slytherin common room and start cursing everything in sight. I'm afraid he might hurt someone, or accidentally let it leak out to the other students. I'm just guessing, since you didn't tell us you haven't told anyone else."   
  
"Well…I told Ginny, but I didn't mean to. If…if Ron would actually listen, I might be able to explain it to you."  
  
"I don't think he's ready to be reasonable about this. Just…cool it down with Malfoy, will you? Just until he is. But I'll listen to you, whenever you want to tell me."   
  
"Thanks, Harry. But not now. I need…I need to get cleaned up. You know how tears are." She was still crying, and felt a new bout of tears coming on.   
  
"I'll see you later, Hermione. You'll be okay, right?"   
  
She was supposed to not see her boyfriend, and Harry expected her to be okay? Of course she wasn't. "Yes." She smiled tightly. He put his hand on her shoulder supportively, then went back into Ron's room. When he opened the door, Hermione heard, "The next time I see him…"  
  
She went as quickly as she could to her own room, then flung herself down on the bed and cried until she couldn't anymore. She reminded herself strongly of Ginny at that moment.   
  
*Speak of the redhead, and she appears.* Ginny had just walked in. She saw right away that Hermione was unhappy. Rushing to her side, she tried to comfort her, but nothing worked.   
  
Hermione would only sink farther into depression the harder her friends tried to cheer her up.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco did not know what was going on with Hermione, but he had not managed to speak to her for almost a month now. He knew she was avoiding him the night when he waited in the ror for two hours, but she did not show up. He tried to send her notes, but apparently she never checked to see if they were there. He sent her owls, but she ignored them. She never made eye contact during the day, and she never said anything to him but *Studying for N.E.W.T.s*.   
  
Eventually, he had to do the unthinkable. He talked to her in public. When Care of Magical Creatures was over, he used his wandless power to scatter her belongings on the ground. She waved her Housemates on, and he hung back, doing the same to the Slytherins. Hagrid took their lesson back behind his hut, and he approached Hermione.   
  
"What are you doing, Draco?" she asked without looking up.   
  
"You've been avoiding me."   
  
"I can't talk right now." She slung her bag over her shoulder. Staring straight at the castle, she stood motionless, as though waiting.   
  
"I want to know what this is about, but obviously you aren't going to tell me. Will you meet me tonight? By the tree, you know the one. The first Hogsmeade weekend that neither of us went to."  
  
"Draco, I can't…I have to study for N.E.W.T.s." Her facial expression changed, to one of helplessness and longing.   
  
"Just meet me."   
  
After a moment, she nodded curtly and started walking. Draco watched her go, not noticing when Hagrid returned. "I know you and Hermione 'ave never gotten along," the giant said, startling him. "So this confuses me. But I guess you two 'ave come to an understandin' . I jus' want ye ter know, if ye hurt her, ye'll have me ter deal with."  
  
Draco turned, looking up at the huge man. "I won't hurt her," he said, promising more to himself than to Hagrid.   
  
End Chapter 4  
  
Note: For meeting under the tree, see prologue, In Medias Res.   
  
I feel so loved that all my friends have noticed the change in my hair. That was sarcastic.   
  
Next chapter up soon!! I do have it written!! Please review for confetti. 


	22. Professor Winkly's Last Lesson

Chapter 21- Professor Winkly's Last Lesson  
  
"Your exams will be given next week," Professor Winkly told the class. "So this is the last thing I will be teaching you."   
  
"What?" Seamus exclaimed. "You're not coming back next year? Why not?"   
  
"Unfinished business, unfinished business," the professor mumbled before continuing their last lesson. "These things I have been teaching you could save your life in a tight situation. But this, what I am about to tell you, is probably the most important of anything."   
  
With his wand, he made a misty likeness of Dumbledore appear in the air, smiling at the class. "You all relate this face with kindness, White Magic, strength and steadfastness. Dumbledore represents all those things, and more. You know you can trust him, always. But evil can lurk where you least expect it. You could suddenly find yourself looking into the eyes of evil, instead of good." Dumbledore's face changed, and the entire class gasped. Voldemort was now grinning malevolently down at them.   
  
Draco certainly had not expected that. He let his breath out when he realized that he had been holding it. "I am not saying that Dumbledore *is* Voldemort. Not at all. I am not saying that you must suspect everyone of being truly evil. I am telling you to be ready to face a threat at any time. You should be able to fight off a Dark wizard having just been roused from a deep sleep. If you do not, your life may end. It is not fair, but it is the truth. You have to be prepared. Even for the most unexpected of situations. You have to be able to react quickly in order to save your own life."   
  
He listened closely. He knew that this would come in handy if he ended up dueling with his father when he left the mansion that summer. *Whoa. That will be quite an ordeal, for someone. It will be the happiest day of ~my~ life, besides last Christmas.* This thought made him grow more surly, thinking about Hermione, and her unexplained avoidance.   
  
*We will sort it out.*   
  
He did not miss her sidelong glance as she left the classroom. He only wished she would not deny him more.   
  
As he was packing his trunk the day before term ended, it hit him like three or four bricks that he had reached the final stretch. When he next returned to Hogwarts, it would be his seventh year. Then, it would all be done. He would be finding a job, paying his own way…he hoped by then he and Hermione would have grown closer again, but he could not be sure that it would happen.   
  
He was already of age. No one could force him to do anything anymore. He would be able to take the Apparition test almost as soon as he left the mansion. He did not have to take any note of the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, because he was no longer underage.   
  
Almost everything was working out well.   
  
He saw Hermione again when they got off the train in London. She barely saw him there, too busy greeting her parents and saying goodbye to her Gryffindor friends. Draco shook his head, then turned to get a hold on his trolley.   
  
"Be patient, Ras," he said to his eagle owl. "Just one quick stop in Diagon Alley, and we'll be back in the mansion. And then, once we leave, we'll go home."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
Hermione spent most of the train ride home staring out the window. Harry and Ron knew why she was not talking, but either they chose to ignore it or they just did not care. They were busy playing exploding snap, making ridiculous predictions about the coming year.   
  
Over the past few weeks, the realization that next year was her seventh resumed slowly lowering a ton of bricks onto her. She did not think she had studied nearly enough for the coming N.E.W.T.s. Everyone was so unprepared for this year, especially her. She would have to really buckle down this summer.   
  
"What do you think Auror training will be like?" Ron wondered. "I'll bet it's hard, but it'll be loads of fun, too."   
  
"Yeah," Harry said. He put another card down, and the whole thing exploded. "I'm not staying with the Dursleys this whole summer."   
  
"You'll come to the Burrow, Harry. I don't know when yet, but I'll try to get your sentence down to a few weeks, max."   
  
"Very funny," Harry said sarcastically, before giving Ron a short kiss. The only occupants of the compartment were Harry and Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, so this was nothing new.   
  
It was not until the others had started to gather their luggage that Hermione realized they had stopped. She stood, and taking down her trunk, blocked Draco completely from her mind. Until she got home, he did not exist. She did not want to break down and cry in front of the whole train station.   
  
She was happy to see her parents again. She had missed them, not going home for Christmas vacation. They were her distraction now, and she filled her mind with them. She barely even remembered to say goodbye to the Weasleys and Harry.   
  
"Guess what, honey?" Hermione's mother said suddenly on the drive home.   
  
"What?"   
  
"We know you've been wanting an exciting vacation. We have as well. So your father and I are taking you to India for the summer."   
  
Hermione's head snapped up. She looked from her father to her mother, then exclaimed, "India? Do you mean it? Oh my god, this is so great! Thank you! I've always wanted to go to India."   
  
"We know, sweetie, that's why we chose it. We're leaving in three days."   
  
Hermione was happy for the car ride home. Then, at home, she was unpacking her trunk so that she could pack her suitcase, and she came across Draco's gift from Christmas. Forgetting her distraction, she put the CD into her stereo, then listened to the song over and over again until her mother called her down for dinner.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Minerva had just left his office after discussing choices for Head Boy and Girl. They had almost come to an agreement, but decided to think on it for a week before they made any decisions. Dumbledore sat at his desk, sorting a stack of papers with his wand.   
  
"I do believe the great Dumbledore has grown weary," the portrait of Phineus Nigellus commented. "How could this be? Not tired out by the old war, now are you?"   
  
"As a matter of fact, Phineus, I am," Dumbledore replied. He reached out to stroke Fawkes. "I am very worried. There have been no attacks this past year, but we just received a report of three mysterious deaths of Muggles yesterday. Very subtle things, Voldemort is doing. I am worried that soon Harry might have to face his destiny…or his doom."   
  
"You let yourself grow to close to him, Albus," Fortescue said, shaking his head. "I must admit I like the boy, as well, but you knew what had to come. It will be the way it will be, and no one can change that. Not even you."   
  
"I know," Dumbledore sighed. "But I do wish there were not so much risk for him."  
  
End Chapter 21  
  
The shortest chapter ever, I know! But the next few will be longer. I promise.   
  
Thank you reviewers, confetti to you. Now everyone go REVIEW for some…psychoanalytical confetti. 


	23. Swirling Colors of Love

Chapter 22- Hermione's Summer: Swirling Colors of Love  
  
~* Dear Draco,   
  
I am very sorry that we have not been able to talk. I've been having some problems that still need to be taken care of. I wish I could see you, but unless you can come to India, I doubt that will happen. My family is going to India for the summer, so don't send anything to my house. I probably won't get it.   
  
Also, I'll be doing a lot of studying this summer, so I'll be pretty busy. I don't think I'll have much time to write.   
  
Affectionately, Hermione *~  
  
She attached her reply to Rasputin's leg and watched him fly off. The next day she would be in another country, far far away. She would have even less of a chance to see Draco. At least she would have time to do her homework.   
  
"All I ever do is homework," she said, frustrated.   
  
"That's not such a bad thing," her mother said behind her. She turned quickly to face her. "Are you ready, Hermione?"   
  
"Yes." She smiled. "I'm really glad we're doing this. Wow! I can't believe I'm going to be in India for two whole months!"   
  
"You'll want to be going to the Weasleys' house when we come back, I assume?"   
  
"I suppose," Hermione said. It would be a good idea. She knew she would miss her friends, and she liked having Ginny to talk to. And she would be able to see how Ron was acting toward the whole thing.   
  
"Hermione, what is wrong? You've barely come out of your room since you came home. Tell me, did something happen at school?"   
  
"There's this…boy at school…never mind, mum. It's hard to explain." She turned to the window again. She rubbed her bare arms, suddenly chilly.   
  
"I'm sure you can manage, you're a brilliant girl." Mrs. Granger put her arm around Hermione's shoulders.   
  
"I know *how* to say it, it's just- hard." Hermione looked at her mother, who was smiling sadly at her.   
  
"Well, whenever you're ready, I'm here to listen."   
  
"He's in Slytherin, and we've never gotten along, but then I started talking to him and he's really wonderful, and we started going out in secret, but then Harry and Ron found out and they hate him and they're making everything difficult for me and so now I can't see him because Ron might kill him if I do and why are you smiling?"   
  
"Oh, honey, your first boyfriend! That's wonderful!" She hugged her daughter.   
  
Hermione gaped at her, bewildered. "Um, did you hear all the rest of that?"   
  
"Of course I did, but it will work itself out. Don't worry too much about it."   
  
"But I miss him. I miss him a lot."   
  
"Do you love him?" Her mother asked. Hermione did not answer right away.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
~* In three feet, detail Grindelwald's rise to power, and people's reactions to the Dark wizard. *~   
  
She had decided to get History of Magic out of the way first, because even though she paid close attention, it was the most boring of all her subjects. She had managed to get through the first foot within the first half hour of the plane ride.   
  
"Are you sure you should be doing that here, honey?" her mother asked. "Isn't there some kind of secrecy decree or something?"   
  
"Oh, mum, no one pays any attention to what other people do on planes. Besides, I'll probably be done in another hour."   
  
"Are you sure you don't want to watch the movie? It's something called 'Calling My Love'. I hear it's good."   
  
"I don't want to ever hear that word again," Hermione said bluntly, returning her focus to her essay.   
  
"Hermione, that was rude. Apologize to your mother right now."   
  
She sighed. "I am sorry, mum. But- you know."   
  
"Yes, honey."   
  
"What do you know? Have you two been sharing secrets again?"   
  
"Yes, and it's for girls' ears only, go away," Mrs. Granger said laughingly to her husband. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she turned a page in her textbook.   
  
By the time two hours had passed she had written and revised her History of Magic homework. She set it aside and leaned back in the chair. Their meal came, and she could not tell what it was, but it was supposed to be some Mexican dish that she could not remember the name of. She did not eat it. She wished she was of age, so she could turn it into something good and fill her stomach.   
  
The rest of the ride was grossly uneventful. She was able to sleep for about an hour, but she spent most of the time staring at the changing landscape and wishing she was in the ror with Draco. Those were the best times of her life by far, and she missed them more than ever now that she was so far away from him.   
  
Getting off the plane was a bit more exciting. Everywhere were people in brightly colored clothing, women in saris and beautiful sparkling jewelry. Periodically there would be a monkey seen scavenging in the bazaar. All manner of dazzlement for the senses could be found sold by the vendors.   
  
Their house that they rented for the summer was just as beautiful. It was full of handmade ethnic decorations and made as comfortable as possible. Hermione loved everything about it, but she was not satisfied just sitting around.   
  
"Mum, can I go outside, take a walk and see what's around here?"   
  
"I'll come with you, Hermione. We don't want you walking all alone in a strange country."   
  
As they were leaving, Hermione said, "I'm almost seventeen, you know. That's legal age in the wizarding world. This is our last summer together, and you're still treating me like a six-year-old."   
  
"You have never been here before in your life, you don't know your way around. I don't want anything to happen to you. What was it you were looking for?"   
  
Hermione saw, suddenly, a man appear out of a seemingly solid wall. "That." She ran after him. "Excuse me, sir? Where is the general non-Muggle community located around here?"   
  
The man looked kindly down at her. He pointed out how to get into the magical portion of the town. It was called Kashih Labir.   
  
It was an Indian version of Diagon Alley. That was the only way Hermione could describe it. They had all the same essential materials in each shop, but the writing was all Hindi, and the robes were more colorful. Hermione looked in every store, even the Quidditch store, wishing she was sharing this with someone who could appreciate the magical world.   
  
She spent half her trip with her parents in Muggle India, and half in Kashih Labir. She took a liking to a certain restaurant in the magical area, owned by a middle-aged, portly wizard called Parbatlal Dubeyji. He spoke English well, though with a very pronounced accent.   
  
One day when she was in his restaurant, she accidentally hinted about her dilemma with Draco. He stared at her for a moment, then sat down at her table and gave her words of wisdom.   
  
"My mama once said to me, 'Love is like Indian clothing. It is colorful and swirls, and it is wonderful for dancing.' At first I said, what is that crazy woman talking about, but when I first fell in love I understood. Love is a bright, wonderful thing, full of color. Love is like you are dancing, whirling out of control, and you have to let it take you where it wants to go. You cannot control love, and no one else should be able to control you. When you find out who you love, nothing should keep you from them."   
  
"Is my lunch ready yet?" Hermione asked glumly.   
  
He returned a minute later with a full plate of chicken tandoori and a mango lassi. "The lassi is free for you, because you need to be cheered up."   
  
Hermione thought about his words as she ate her meal. She knew he was right, but she really believed that Ron would try to hurt Draco. Oh, well, the least she could do was tell him why she had avoided him for the last month and a half of school.   
  
~*Dear Miss Granger,   
  
Enclosed is a list of school books and supplies you will need for your seventh year at Hogwarts.   
  
Also, I am pleased to inform you that you have been made Head Girl.^…*~  
  
She almost dropped the letter. Deep down, she had expected it, but she had never let herself believe that she would be Head Girl. After a few deep breaths, she read on.   
  
~* Because of the nature of your duties and the collaboration required with the Head Boy, you will no longer live in Gryffindor House, though you still belong to it. You will share a dormitory with the Head Boy, who for the coming year will be Draco Malfoy of Slytherin House. The two of you will work with the Headmaster to plan certain larger events, and alone for other events, such as Hogsmeade weekends. You will organize all decorations for the castle this year. Also, you will be available to help younger students at all times, and you will oversee detentions.   
  
I hope you are looking forward to your year as Head Girl. See you September 1st!   
  
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School*~   
  
If she was going to share a dormitory with Draco all year, then they could not possibly avoid each other. Ron would just have to get over his hate complex and learn to live with her choice in boyfriends.   
  
She hoped it wouldn't be too stressful this year.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny squealed, throwing her arms around her as she stepped out of the fireplace. "I missed you! I've had to hang around with the boys all summer! And they're a little sickening," she added in an undertone, earning a giggle from Hermione.   
  
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said. He and Ron had just entered the room, attracted by Ginny's loud announcement of her arrival. She hugged each of them, Ron more reluctantly. "How was your summer?"   
  
"It was wonderful! I have presents for all of you, but I want to get settled first. I spent all of yesterday on a plane."   
  
"You're in my room, Hermione. Come on, guys, help us carry up her stuff."   
  
"You'd think we were house-elves," Ron said dryly to Harry.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. She had just about given up on S.P.E.W. No one wanted to free the house-elves. But she still felt bad for them, and all the work they had to do without being paid.   
  
When her thinks had been hauled up to Ginny's room, and Crookshanks was curling himself happily around everyone's legs, she said, "Go down to the living room, and I'll bring you your presents. Go. Now. Go on, you guys!" They reluctantly left, and she sorted through the findings in her trunk to pull out their gifts.   
  
Ginny opened hers first. Hermione had gotten her a full Indian outfit, and a bracelet, anklet, and belt with bells. "Wow, Hermione! It's so beautiful!"   
  
"I thought the blue would look great with your hair," Hermione said. "It's for belly dancing. I can show you how, I learned a little."   
  
"That would be so much fun! Thank you, Hermione!" Ginny hugged her tightly, then ran out immediately to try on her gift.   
  
She had gotten Harry and Ron both the same thing; broomstick servicing kits. At first they were confused. "We already have these, Hermione…"   
  
"Not ones like this. The handle polish has special Indian oil, it works better than the stuff we have, and the twig clippers are unbreakable, unbendable, flexible, and foldable. They take broom care quite seriously in India."   
  
"Wow, that's great! Thanks!" Ron said excitedly.   
  
"Yeah, thanks. I…whoa. Is that you, Ginny, or is it the Devi?"   
  
Ginny had entered again, wearing her sea blue Indian clothing. Her smooth, flat stomach was exposed, and she looked very tall and slim. Not that she normally didn't. She jingled whenever she walked.   
  
"You look amazing, Ginny! I am so jealous."   
  
"I'm sure you look amazing in yours, Hermione. What color is it?"   
  
"It's red and orange," Hermione replied. "I look okay, but not anything like you."   
  
Mrs. Weasley entered. "Ginny, whatever are you wearing?!"   
  
"It's from India. Hermione gave it to me. What do you think?" She whirled, making the skirt fan out around her.   
  
"I think you look beautiful, but you had better not wear it in public."   
  
After dinner that night, Ginny dragged Hermione up to their room. "Okay, what is going on?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Harry and Ron may be oblivious, but *my* boyfriend is miles away. I see how you've been. You're too quiet, and you haven't even asked how I did on my O.W.L.s."   
  
"That's right! You took them last year. How did you do?"   
  
"You're not getting away that easily."   
  
"I will tell you, Ginny, I promise. Just answer my questions first."  
  
"I got thirteen O.W.L.s. Excellent in History of Magic and Divination, Outstanding in everything else. Apparently someone got hold of the names of people who were able to produce corporeal Patroni. All of D.A. got extra points on our Defense O.W.L."   
  
"That's great, Ginny! Okay, just one more question, and then I'll tell you. Have Harry and Ron told you mother yet?"   
  
"Oh, yes. They told her and Dad, but they made them promise not to tell our brothers. I think they're going to end up finding out anyway. Okay, so spill it. What is wrong with you?"   
  
"I've just been pining all summer. India was wonderful, but I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn't having this problem with Draco. Ron can be such a git. Do you know if he's cooled down about it?"   
  
"I haven't heard him mention it since the beginning of July. He muttered a little, and glared at a gnome, but other than that he seemed all right. But I don't know. You'd have to ask him."   
  
"This is terrible! I'm going to have such a hard time if Ron doesn't get over this."   
  
"Why? What happened?"   
  
"Other than what was already stressing me? Well, I was made Head Girl."   
  
Ginny stared for a moment. "And *you* think that's terrible?"   
  
"Well, it all has to do with who was made Head Boy."   
  
End Chapter 22   
  
Okay, so one third of this summer is over!! You'll get it in two chapters.   
  
Ten house points to anyone who can find the movie reference (and name the movie). Please specify your house.   
  
Thank you mednar for your extra long review. Thank everyone else for your reviews, no matter how long they are.   
  
REVIEW now for…um…orange…and…purple confetti. 


	24. Confessions, Revelations, and Questions

Chapter 23- Harry's Summer: Confessions, Revelations, and Questions  
  
If there was any change in the Dursleys during the year he had been gone, it was that they hated him even more. They glared when they looked at him and spat when they spoke to him. Keeping in mind that he would never come back there again, he managed to be civil, which only infuriated them.   
  
After two weeks of this disdainful behavior, Harry was thinking of staying until his birthday passed, just so he could hex them all. However, one day his problems were solved, and he did not think twice about leaving.   
  
He was just turning on the burner to cook breakfast when a knock sounded at the door. A rustling indicated Uncle Vernon rising from his chair, grumbling about people who visited early in the morning without calling first, to answer the door. When he pulled it open, Harry heard a voice that made him grin.  
  
"Hi, I'm here to get Harry. He's leaving with me and never coming back."   
  
Harry coughed back his laugh and went into the corridor. "Subtle, Ron."   
  
"Why bother with subtlety? Come on, Dad's waiting outside with a portkey. We leave in fifteen minutes."   
  
"Fifteen minutes! Are you kidding? Why didn't you tell me so I could get packed?"   
  
"Well, I'll help you pack, Harry." He winked.   
  
A slow smile spread across Harry's face. He wondered how the Dursleys would react… "You just want an excuse to touch my underwear."   
  
"Harry! Don't be ridiculous! I don't need an excuse."   
  
They both laughed, and then they kissed. Harry turned to see Uncle Vernon recoiling in horror. Dudley had just waddled into the room, and he exclaimed, "I *knew* you had to be a queer!"   
  
In a heartbeat, both Ron's and Harry's wands had flown into their hands. "No, Harry, let me. After all, I'm the one who's of age now."   
  
"Oh, yeah. Go ahead, Ron. A pig snout to go with that tail he removed."   
  
Dudley squeaked and ran from the room. Or, he tried to run, but it was more of a quick waddle. Ron and Harry ran past him to Harry's room, where they burst out laughing. They wiped tears of mirth from their eyes when they had recovered, and then realized that they had approximately five minutes to pack everything Harry owned.   
  
"Relax," Ron said. "Watch this."   
  
He waved his wand in a long sweeping motion, and everything in the room jumped into Harry's trunk. This included Hedwig's cage, with the bird in it. She squawked, annoyed. Harry lifted the cage out, looking pointedly at Ron.   
  
"Sorry," Ron shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "I haven't really perfected it yet."   
  
They dragged his belongings outside, where Mr. Weasley was waiting with a ripped magazine. "Still one minute left."   
  
"Hang on," Harry said. He ran back inside. His "family" was sitting in the parlor. They looked up when he entered. "Ron's right. I'm not coming back here, ever. This year I'm going to be a legal adult in the wizarding world. So I thought I'd tell you what's on my mind. Dudley, you're a fat chit. You really should do something about that. It's not healthy. Uncle Vernon, you're an inconsiderate, intolerant hypocrite. Oh, did you two know Dudley goes around with his friends, smoking on street corners, drinking, beating up little kids?" They glanced quickly, surprised, at Dudley, before looking back at him.   
  
"Aunt Petunia-" Whatever Harry was going to say, it flew from his mind when he looked at her. Her eyes were sad, and she gave him a small regretful smile. He nodded at her, then said, "Goodbye. Don't keep in touch."   
  
"Harry! You've got fifteen seconds to get out here!"   
  
He bolted out to the Weasleys and managed to grab Ron's hand as the Portkey took them back to the Burrow.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"You two don't actually expect me to keep this secret all summer, do you?" Ginny demanded. Her arms were folded in front of her, and her right foot was tapping impatiently.   
  
"You won't tell, will you Gin?"   
  
"No, Ron, of course not. But I thought you would at least tell mum and dad. They wouldn't want to find out from anyone else."   
  
"Fine! We'll tell them tonight, but only them! No one else gets to know. All right, Harry?"   
  
"Yeah, fine, Ron." He squeezed Ron's hand briefly.   
  
In the middle of their steak dinner, therefore, Ron put down his utensils. That was so surprising that at first even Ginny thought something was wrong. "Are you all right, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked nervously. She had never seen him *stop* eating in the middle of a meal.   
  
"Yes. Um, I- and Harry- have something to tell you," he began, glancing at Harry. He smiled encouragingly. "Um, since last November, we've been, um…"   
  
"Let me, Ron," Harry said, suddenly giddy. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, I'm in love with your son."   
  
Ron's parents looked between their son and Harry. Ginny looked between her parents and Ron and Harry. Ron stared at Harry. "You are?"   
  
Harry grinned embarrassedly, realizing that he had never told Ron he loved him. "Yeah. I really am."   
  
Ron smiled, leaning over to kiss Harry's lips. "I love you too, Harry."   
  
It was about that time that the Weasleys recovered from shock and began to speak. "Well, I must say I am surprised," Mr. Weasley said. "But, well, good for you."   
  
"Oh, Ron! That's so wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. She rushed around the table to hug him. Then she whirled on Harry, engulfing him in a tight hug as well.   
  
"Uh, mum, let Harry breathe," Ginny grinned. Ron did not say anything, and as soon as Mrs. Weasley released him Harry discovered why. Having dropped the news on his parents, Ron resumed eating, with triple his previous appetite.   
  
Harry had found that he liked his new relationship with Ron immensely. They did not do anything different from what they had done before, except that now there was kissing involved. They were both steadily becoming skilled in the art of snogging, simply by loads of practice.   
  
On the night of the evening they told Ron's parents, Mrs. Weasley found numerous reasons to go up to Ron's room. When she left for the fifth time, Ron turned to Harry. "I almost get the feeling she doesn't trust us."   
  
"I was almost getting the same feeling," Harry replied. "But at least now we're getting a second dessert."   
  
During the second week of August their school letters came. Ron's and Harry's letters were identical, but enclosed along with Harry's was a separate note, handwritten by Dumbledore.   
  
~* In preparation for leaving Hogwarts, I ask that you take an increasing interest in Defense, and study privately one night a week with the Defense professor. Please consider this carefully, as you personally are at greater risk than any other wizard.*~  
  
Ginny, in one of her frequent strokes of genius, said quickly, "Mum, you can get our school supplies in Diagon Alley tomorrow. I have to meet Seamus in London, anyway, so we can go together."   
  
With a flicker of a glance at the two boys, Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Well, all right."   
  
"Ginny, thanks," Harry said when Ron's mother had left.   
  
"Hey, don't mention it. I know you two have been trying to get more than fifteen minutes alone all summer. If mum didn't come into Ron's room to wake you two up every morning, you'd be sleeping in the same bed. I would hate it if mum walked in on me and Seamus snogging, I would hate to see it happen to you two as well." With a mischievous grin, she jogged up the stairs.   
  
"Ginny is evil." Coincidentally, they had both said this at the same time.   
  
When everyone had gone the next day, Harry and Ron did what they usually did. They played Quidditch. Sometime in the middle of this, they began to flirt and kiss, which eventually progressed into snogging, but they returned to Quidditch when they had finished.   
  
A few hours into the afternoon, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had still not returned, but another long-haired Weasley wandered into the backyard. This could only be Bill. Flying down to greet him, the boys clasped hands with him.   
  
"Hey Ron, hey Harry," Bill said casually. "What's new?"   
  
"Nothing," Ron said quickly. "Nothing at all." Harry rolled his eyes and Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Thought I'd surprise mum. You know how she gets when we visit without notice. 'Oh, Bill, you're here! Oh, I wasn't expecting you, but how wonderful! I'll add some more chicken to the pot. Oh, today Ron learned to blow his nose with tissues, isn't that wonderful, Bill-'"   
  
"Hey, shut up!" Ron shoved his brother.   
  
Bill laughed. "Okay, whatever you say. So you're both on the Quidditch team, right? Do you know who the new captain is going to be?"   
  
"Nope. We'll be voting right when school starts. Then we'll have to hold tryouts within the first two weeks."   
  
"Oh, yeah, Harry, I've been thinking about that. We should probably chose reserve players, and stuff, younger ones I mean. All we'll need is one chaser, Katie's the only one leaving, but there'll be-"   
  
"Sorry," Bill said, "But might I take your Firebolt for a spin, Harry? I promise to return it in perfect condition." He looked quite hopeful.   
  
"Sure," Harry replied, offering him the broom. Bill took it and kicked off from the ground. "You were saying, Ron?"   
  
"There will be…well, at least three seventh years on the team, including the Keeper and Seeker positions. I don't like the idea of there being a new Keeper and Seeker at the same time. You know, because then they'll have to train them both really quick, or else they'll have to be like you and not have to learn anything."   
  
"Shut up, but I see your point. Hm, I wonder who the captain will be?"   
  
"Probably you," Ron said. "You have the most experience on the team, and you've never lost us a game…never when it counted."   
  
"Well, in third year-"   
  
"Hey, that wasn't your fault! You fell off the broom! Come on, just because *Diggory* didn't- oh, I'm sorry, Harry." Ron had once again forgotten about Harry's guilt complex. "Sorry. Well, later on, when we're in my room, I'll make you feel better."   
  
Harry smiled at him. "Thanks, Ron." He squeezed his hand quickly, letting go before Bill had a chance to catch them.   
  
"Marvelous," Bill said, handing the Firebolt back. "I wish I had enough money to get one of my own."   
  
"How's Fleur?" Harry asked, flashing Ron a sly glance. Ron stuck out his tongue.   
  
"Oh, she's doing well. Her English is getting much better. And my 'French' is…" Bill coughed, cutting himself off. "Well, let's go inside, then."   
  
Harry exchanged amused glances with Ron. Bill was embarrassed about his girlfriend! Harry had a hard time suppressing his laughter, but at least he managed. Ron, after half an hour of Bill looking awkward, burst out laughing, and he ending up holding his stomach on the floor. "Sorry- Bill. It's- just- so- funny!"   
  
"Geez, Ron, get a grip," said Harry.   
  
"Oh, I will," Ron answered, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry rolled his eyes again.   
  
"You look a lot like Hermione when you do that," Bill commented.   
  
Speak of the genius, and she appears- but not for another week. Harry and Ron were alerted to her presence by Ginny's squeal of delight at the appearance of her friend. They made their way downstairs, said hello, received their gifts, saw Ginny looking like a goddess, and found out that Hermione had been made Head Girl. Not that they couldn't have guessed.   
  
"Congratulations, Hermione," Ron said when Harry had stepped on his foot.   
  
"Yeah, we know you've been wanting this," Harry smiled.   
  
"Thanks," she said. She did not seem as happy about it as they would have expected, but Harry did not think she would tell them if they asked. He left it alone. Ron had been distracted by the announcement of dinner.   
  
Surprisingly, Harry and Ron found some odd enjoyment in watching Ginny and Hermione belly dancing. They even joined them at one point. "Well, you *are* gay," Ginny pointed out. Harry laughed at this, but Ron just shook his head at her with narrowed eyes.   
  
One day Ginny and Hermione disappeared. When they returned, the youngest Weasley had a new haircut. Her hair now hung straight to her shoulders, with multitudes of chunky layers. The most surprising part, however, was that she now sported bright black streaks throughout her locks. Harry had not realized that bright black was a color. The boys both thought it looked great.   
  
Mrs. Weasley was a bit shocked by the change. "You could have mentioned something to me."   
  
"I wanted it to be a surprise."   
  
"Oh, well. You do look beautiful, dear."   
  
"Just imagine how it will look with my blue belly dancing outfit," Ginny said, grinning.   
  
"You will not wear that around any boys."   
  
"Mum, please."   
  
And the summer passed thus. They managed to have all their homework done two days before school started, as a result of Hermione's urging. Harry got his Apparition license the day after Ginny came home transformed. He then joined Ron in Apparating to breakfast every morning. Ron, being seventeen since March, had gotten his license the day before he and his father took Harry away from the Dursleys.   
  
"And we can do magic here, now. I think that after we graduate, we should go visit your cousin and take that pig thing to a new level."   
  
"I think we should think it out more, but I agree with you. Maybe we can do something to my uncle, as well. He deserves it."   
  
"What about your aunt?"   
  
"No, just leave her out of it. It isn't her fault, anyway."   
  
Harry went back to the day he had left. Why had Aunt Petunia suddenly been kind to him, offering him the only smile he had ever seen from her that was meant for him? Why had she suddenly acted as though she wished they had treated him better?   
  
That was not the most puzzling bit. Why had he felt suddenly connected to her in a very significant way? Why did he feel as though she were trying to silently tell him her deepest secret?   
  
Would he ever know the answers to these questions?   
  
End Chapter 23  
  
Hey, there you have it. Not extremely exciting, but I found parts of it humorous, and I personally love Ginny's hair now. Thank you all my reviewers! I love you!!   
  
Have you met my friend Pluggy McPlugson?: You should all go and read this other story, called Pick Up the Pieces, by Lyra Silvertongue. It's so cute. We've decided to plug each other's stories because we came up with a few of the same ideas for the Head Boy/Girl thing, and because we're addicted to each other's stories. I love you Sarah!   
  
Now go review. Thank you. Oh, right. Your confetti is chameleon. You may interpret that any way you wish. :) 


	25. Summer of Discontent

Chapter 24- Draco's Summer: Summer of Discontent   
  
It was certainly not the best of times, but it was not quite the worst of times.   
  
In true determined-Draco fashion, he had managed to pass the Apparition test within four days of returning home from his sixth year at Hogwarts. Within this same amount of time, he received a letter from Hermione, which apologized but did not explain anything. He huffed in frustration, only slightly amused by her comments concerning studying for N.E.W.T.s in India.   
  
Draco had not unpacked anything but the clothes he had already worn. A week into summer break, all he had done was practicing spells, flying, and thinking of Hermione. That night, after dinner, his father summoned him to his study.   
  
"Wonderful news, son," Lucius said in his disdainful drawl. "Voldemort has agreed to take you early as one of his followers. You can receive the mark tomorrow night."   
  
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"And you had better watch out, or one day you'll find yourself without a little Mudblood girlfriend to do all your work for you!" Lucius shouted before slamming the door.   
  
At this, Draco stopped in his tracks. He almost turned back, but he resisted the urge to retaliate. He would not give his father that satisfaction. Instead he looked firmly into Ras's eyes, and took a resolute step forward before he realized that he had no idea where he was going.   
  
Sighing, he stuck out his wand arm. He had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit by the triple-decker purple Knight Bus. With a comforting word to Ras, he paid the attendant and dragged his things to the back.   
  
Draco distracted himself from the spinning landscape by wondering where the driver had learned to drive, if you could call it that. After what seemed like forever, they stopped at number 478 Allan Street. The address of his flat.   
  
Draco made sure he had his keys before leaving the bus. His heart was racing with excitement. For a moment he forgot to be depressed, to busy anticipating the appearance of his own, very own, private, owned by him, flat. He had never seen it, even though he had been paying rent on in for the past two months.   
  
It was perfect. The furniture in the parlor was all black, plush, and overstuffed, aside from the tables, which were all of hand-carved ebony. A fireplace of black bricks interrupted one wall. The only color was added by the (magical, of course, so they didn't use electri- electi- plugs) lamps. They were all white porcelain, hand painted with designs of nature. Trees, dragons, and the like. The rug in the center was a deep green, with blue around the border.   
  
The kitchen was a rather modern one, with black marble countertops and a black tile floor, and mahogany cupboards. The sink matched the counters so perfectly that he did not see it at first.   
  
The bathroom was also black, in terms of the toilet, tub, and sink, with a white floor, an ebony-framed mirror, which greeted him jovially when he looked in, white walls with black leaves painted close to the ceiling, and a sliding, translucent glass door for the shower. Draco wondered who had lived here before, who had decorated in such a manner that he found it perfect.  
  
There were two bedrooms. One was all black, but for white walls, and the other was all white with pale blue walls. Naturally, he chose the black one. He unpacked everything, down to the last sock and schoolbook. He wanted this place to really feel like his home.   
  
Immediately he went into Diagon Alley. At Gringotts, he extracted a fair amount of his money, then walked out with the bag bulging.   
  
The first store he entered was Flourish and Blotts. He looked up two spells, though it took him approximately an hour to find them. The first one made his money bag look less full, without actually extracting any gold. The second was a copy spell, to make a set of keys for Hermione.   
  
Having found the spells, he stepped into Eylop's Pet Emporium, and he bought a large perch for his eagle owl. Back at his flat, he put it up in a corner of the parlor, then let Ras out of his cage. The bird circled the flat a few times before settling.   
  
"What do I need now?" he asked himself. "I just realized I won't have anyone to talk to at all. I hope I don't turn into a lonely old maid with twenty cats who buys a house for each of them, or something."   
  
What he really needed was a job. He couldn't start a real job now, not with his last year at school coming up in two and a half months. He had more than enough money to last him that long. He could probably spend a while on his homework, having received so much of it in preparation for N.E.W.T.s, but he did not want to turn into Hermione…Hermione. He could spend the whole entire summer thinking of her, he knew, but he knew that would be pathetic. He could not lock himself up in a room all summer.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
*Because you'll go crazy, that's why not.* He was right. He would most certainly not come out of August mentally stable if the only thing he thought about for two months was Hermione. He needed a real distraction. That was where the job came in.   
  
"I'll look tomorrow. I haven't slept for too long, now I'm going to sleep for too long."   
  
It was about midday. He had arrived a little after sunrise on the Knight Bus, and spent a few hours in Diagon Alley. Mainly because of the reckless driving, he had been unable to sleep on the bus. He had been awake since the previous morning, and his bed was inviting.   
  
The mattress, covered in soft black sheets, was a springy, cushiony thing. He wondered, as he drifted off, if he could find a spell to turn it into one of those cloudlike cushions from that day in the ror.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Name, please?"   
  
"Draco Malfoy."   
  
The manager of Quality Quidditch Supplies looked up at him doubtfully. "Malfoy? So why do you want to work here?"   
  
"Because I need a job," he stated firmly. "I know about Quidditch, so I figured this would be the best place to look for one. I won't even talk if you don't want me to. I'll just work."   
  
The manager still looked doubtful. "All right. If I hire you, you'll probably just be doing odd jobs, and I can only pay you fifty galleons a week right now. It's not much-"   
  
"That's fine," Draco said. "Whatever. But I should probably know what to call you, if I'm going to work here."   
  
"Right. I'm Nicholas Joel. You can call me Nick, everyone else does."   
  
"When do I start?"   
  
"Now, if you want. I have a shipment of Quaffles that need to be checked and stocked, and then I have a special order of robes for the English National team coming in at four o'clock this afternoon."   
  
"I'll take care of it," Draco said, and went to work.   
  
He actually enjoyed the tasks he was given. They gave him a sense of purpose, and kept him from always thinking about Hermione. He most liked working as a store clerk, helping customers find the right broom. When a ten-year-old walked out of the shop, excitedly bouncing, itching to try out his new broom, Draco felt that he had accomplished something.   
  
However, even with his job and his homework, he still found time to brood and sulk. He thought of her whenever he had to look up a fact in a book, thinking that she would probably know the answer off the top of her head. He thought of her the few times he remembered their end of year tests. He thought of her whenever he did something good, knowing that she would be proud of him if she could see. He thought of her when he was feeling like hell, knowing that she would sit with him and lift his spirits.   
  
Merlin, he missed her.   
  
Things got especially interesting when a large barn owl brought him his Hogwarts letter.   
  
~ * Dear Mister Malfoy,   
  
Enclosed is a list of books and supplies you will need for your seventh year at Hogwarts.   
  
Also, I am pleased to inform you that you have been made Head Boy. Because of the nature of your duties and the collaboration required with the Head Girl, you will no longer live in Slytherin House, though you still belong to it. You will share a dormitory with the Head Girl, who for the coming year will be Hermione Granger of Gryffindor House. The two of you will work with the Headmaster to plan certain larger events, and alone for other events, such as Hogsmeade weekends. You will organize all decorations for the castle this year. Also, you will be available to help younger students at all times, and you will oversee detentions.  
  
I hope you are looking forward to your year as Head Boy. See you September 1st!  
  
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School*~  
  
He was looking forward to it, all right. Sharing a dorm with Hermione? He was ecstatic. He was excited. He was picturing all the time they would spend together. He had never wanted to return to school more.   
  
If only she would talk to him.   
  
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On his way to work the next day, he saw none other than Ginny Weasley walking his way. He avoided eye contact, and luckily she said nothing. He went into the store and set to work unpacking a box of bludgers. It was tough to do this without having some bone in his face broken.   
  
As he was putting the last bludger into its restraints, Weasley and her shadow, Finnigan, entered. They both looked incredibly surprised to see him, but when Finnigan started to take a step toward him, Ginny stopped him, and she led him over to the brooms.   
  
This made him wonder. Since when had Ginny been sticking up for *him*? Had Hermione told her about them?   
  
Probably. But probably not on purpose. Weasley had probably found out on her own. She was clever that way…  
  
Merlin, had he just said something complimentary about a Weasley? He really *was* different from what everyone thought.   
  
*Maybe I should get myself a new broom later on. I have enough money. Yes. The brand new model, the Flashstorm, should serve perfectly.* On a level with the Firebolt in quality, it was slightly lower in price, and so would not clean out his entire account. The handle was black, but the tail twigs were of silver birch. Draco thought it would go well in his flat. Besides, he did not want a broom that his *father* bought him.   
  
And so, the day before school began, he treated himself to a brand new Flashstorm and a large ice cream sundae loaded with hot fudge.   
  
End Chapter 24  
  
Ah, angst. Poor Draco.   
  
Thanks, loavely reviewers! You'll never know how much I loveth thee. Um…yeah.   
  
Because Lyra Silvertongue's plug for me in her fic "Pick Up the Pieces" (which you should all go read) was so good, I decided to plug her again. So I did.   
  
Okay, confetti for you all who will now review! Iocane confetti. It's tasteless, odorless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man. I'm sure you'll find it useful. 


	26. The Silent Treatment

Chapter 25- The Silent Treatment  
  
Hermione had been dreading entering the prefects' compartment on the Hogwarts Express since the day she got her letter. She took a deep breath and opened the door.   
  
A few of the prefects had arrived already, mostly the younger ones, eager to begin their duties. Hermione followed the gaze of a hopeful-eyed Slytherin girl to the corner, where Draco was sitting. Glaring at the girl, she sat in the opposite corner, waiting for the rest to show up.   
  
When they had, she began the speech she had planned. "Welcome new prefects, welcome back old. I'm Hermione Granger, for those of you who don't know, and this is…" he made no move to introduce himself, but met her gaze evenly. "Draco Malfoy. We are the Head Boy and Girl this year. As prefects, you…"   
  
At the end of the speech, Draco still had not spoken a word. Though she was itching to roll her eyes, she did not. What was his problem? "Now you will receive the passwords for your dormitories. I've written them on these little slips of paper. Once both of the prefects for the house has read the password, the paper will dissolve, so you had better remember them." She passed them out. "Okay, everyone got it? Good. Now, for the next forty-five minutes, you patrol the hallways, and then we'll take over. Go do your duty."   
  
Sighing, the prefects stood, and filed out of the compartment. She walked behind them. Before leaving, she felt someone standing very close behind her. "We need to talk."   
  
"Not here," she whispered.   
  
"Why not? It *is* normal for the Head Boy and Girl to talk, you know. We'll have to eventually. We're alone, when would be a better time?"   
  
Hermione looked at him, then shook her head and left the compartment. She walked depressed through the corridors, buying a pumpkin pasty off the lunch cart and eating it as she patrolled. He always had to pick the worst times to make her feel terrible.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
She didn't want to talk to him. He slowly wandered the corridors, shoulders slumped, returning to his own compartment when they had almost reached the school.   
  
She wasn't going to talk to him. Well, fine then. He wouldn't talk to her either.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
As instructed, Hermione and Draco went to Professor McGonagall's office after the start of term feast to receive further instructions.   
  
"Ah, you're here," she said briskly. "Good. Sit down. No, don't worry, this is nothing serious, but it is important, seeing as you have to know how to get into your dormitory. The password, from now up until the end of the month, is 'Mysticity'. You two will come up with the passwords for your own dorm when this password has expired. Be warned, if you tell anyone, the password will immediately be changed, and you will need to see me to find out the new password."   
  
"I suppose it would help if I told you the location, as well. Your dorm is on the fourth floor, behind a large, blue-hued mountain landscape. It is between a picture of a woman holding a baby and a man with a sword through his stomach. I did not choose these, so if you don't like them do not complain to me."   
  
"Now, there is one other thing you should know about your dormitory. It is set up for two people, a boy and a girl. You will share a common room, but there will be two corridors off of it leading to your rooms and separate bathrooms. You will be unable to enter each other's corridors. It is a precaution we take to ensure that no…unwanted activity occurs. I trust that you will take this as a warning, and not do anything you should not."   
  
"There is one other thing I wanted to talk to the two of you about. I know that you have not gotten along in the past, but as Head Boy and Girl, I expect you, and Dumbledore expects you to work together, and not to set a bad example for the younger students by arguing. You will be seen to get along to others. Dumbledore had the final say in who was chosen. I do not know why he picked the two of you, but I am sure there must be a good reason. Part of that reason is that you two are the students who most deserve the privilege. I know you will take it seriously, and not abuse it. That is all, you should go to your dorms now."   
  
Hermione turned immediately and left, taking stiff, quick steps to keep ahead of her male counterpart. *Damn, now I've passed the stairway to the fourth floor.* She took a few steps in the opposite direction and began the ascent.   
  
In no time, they had found a large painting of a mountain range, done entirely in tints of blue. "Mysticity," Hermione said to the painting. It swung inward, and Hermione stepped through it. She knew that Draco was right behind her, but she did not turn.   
  
It took them less than a minute to figure whose corridor was whose. One of them was done in silver and green, and the other in red and gold. Crookshanks appeared from the red and gold corridor, and trotted toward Hermione.   
  
"Hello, Crooky," she crooned, picking him up.   
  
Draco walked toward the silver and green corridor, muttering to himself. "Goodnight," he said, a little louder, before disappearing.   
  
He had spoken approximately three sentences to her all day. Did he really expect to get away with not talking to her? There was no way she would do all the work of the Head Boy and Girl herself. It was too much. She would have to set him straight.   
  
Her chance did not come any time soon. They could not talk in class, due to their workload. He avoided her in the halls and everywhere else. In the dormitory, he went immediately to his room, not risking a minute in the common room to let her talk. Quite annoyed by this, Hermione decided that *she* would avoid *him*.   
  
At the time, she did not realize just how ridiculous she was being about the whole thing.   
  
There was one incident, a week into the term, when they almost spoke to each other. Hermione had entered the Great Hall for dinner to see a small crowd gathering. She pushed her way through, and was shocked by what she saw.   
  
Goyle, who had never thought for himself in his entire life, was straddling Ron, his large hands encircling the redhead's neck. Ron continually brought his fist up to collide with various parts of Goyle's body, but the huge boy hung on. Ron was turning quickly from red to purple.   
  
Suddenly Goyle was levitated off of Ron. Hermione turned to see Draco standing next to her, staring at the boy he had once called a friend. Hermione rushed the few steps to Ron's side to see if he was all right.   
  
Professor McGonagall showed up at that very second. "What is going on here?" she demanded.   
  
"Goyle was strangling Weasley," Draco said. "That was all I saw."   
  
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at the huge Slytherin. "Even you should know better than that, Goyle. You will follow me to Professor Dumbledore's office, at once. Mister Weasley- Miss Granger, would you accompany him to the hospital wing, and then to the Headmaster's office, please?"   
  
Hermione helped Ron to his feet. He had a hand over his neck, and he was wheezing slightly. His face was twisted into an awkward grimace. "What happened to you?" Madame Pomfrey asked sternly.   
  
"Gregory Goyle was trying to kill him. I swear. He was choking him."   
  
"Well, I can take care of that. I do hope that other young man will get his comeuppance, then."   
  
In another minute, Ron was able to talk again, and Madame Pomfrey sent them on their way. "Do you think he'll be expelled?" Hermione wondered aloud.   
  
"I really hope so. But Harry and I have done much worse, and we've never been expelled."   
  
"You and Harry never tried to *kill* another student in plain sight of everyone else."   
  
"What about Malfoy?…Sorry."   
  
"No, it's all right. You never intended to kill him, though. Hurt him maybe, but not kill. It looked to me like Goyle did not intend to stop until you were passed out. How did that happen?"   
  
"You'll find out soon enough. You are Head Girl, remember?"   
  
"No, I didn't, Ron. Thanks for reminding me."   
  
They were let into Dumbledore's office, and they found Goyle, Draco, Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore already there. "Now that you're all here, we can begin. I would like to hear the story from both sides."   
  
Ron's side was very angry and would have included a number of insulting swear words had no teachers been present. Goyle's side was fragmented and poorly told. What Hermione gathered was this:   
  
Harry had just left to go to the bathroom, and Ron had given him a kiss- just a small one, but Goyle saw. When Harry was gone, Goyle began to taunt Ron. Ron taunted him back, about his father being in Azkaban and not being smart enough to coherently string to words together.   
  
From there to the physical contact was hazy, but apparently at some point Goyle had snapped, and attacked Ron. He had ended up with his hands encircling Ron's neck tightly. Ron attempted to fight him off, but the other boy was quite large and the feat was a difficult one.   
  
When Draco had seen them, he had used wandless magic to lift Goyle and set the two of them apart until a teacher arrived. At that time, Ron had been close to passing out, and did not remember. He could not tell the others anything about this part, but Goyle remembered suddenly being lifted and not being able to get back to his quarry.   
  
Dumbledore listened, the usual twinkle in his eye diminished slightly. He said gravely, when they had all finished, "Thank you for your recounting of the event. Now, I would like to ask one more time, to our Head Boy and Girl. Do you think Mister Goyle would have come to his sentences of his own accord?"   
  
Draco and Hermione looked at each other. They shook their heads simultaneously.   
  
"Thank you. Under these circumstances, I am afraid I have no choice. Mister Goyle, I am going to have to expel you."   
  
"But Headmaster!" Snape exploded. "Weasley was fighting too, and he provoked him. He's been crossing lines forever, after all he's done he should be expelled as well-"   
  
"Mister Weasley was defending his life, Severus. I would expect no less. It was wrong of him to provoke another student, but even so, students are expected to exhibit good judgment and keep a rein on their tempers. Mister Goyle has not demonstrated this. He put another student in danger deliberately. We cannot allow that kind of behavior."   
  
"Mister Goyle, for this no points will be taken from Slytherin, but you will be on the train home tomorrow. Your parents will be notified. Have your things packed as soon as you can. You will return to your dormitory now, and you will not emerge again until tomorrow morning."   
  
"Severus, Minerva, Mister Goyle, you may leave now."   
  
They did so, if hesitantly. Ron, Hermione, and Draco waited.   
  
"I would like to thank you three for contributing to my decision. Without your accounts of the event I would not have been able to come to this conclusion."   
  
"Mister Weasley, first I would like to commend you on two things. Your valiant defense of your own life, and not rising to the provocations one hears when others know that you are attracted to someone of the same gender. I know it can be hard, especially where it is not common. You know, of course, that even with the few other students who were in the Great Hall, by the end of today the entire school will know of your relationship development."   
  
"I had thought of that," Ron said. He did not look all too happy. "We were not planning to tell yet, but I suppose having it out is better than just keeping it to ourselves."   
  
"If you have any trouble with the other students, feel welcome to talk to me. I also must ask you to refrain from taunting students, or anyone, who would attack you with enough incentive. It is not good for your own health or for the safety of those around you."   
  
"No problem, Professor. I think I can handle that."   
  
"You may go, Mister Weasley. I need to have a word or two with the Head Boy and Girl."   
  
"Thanks, Professor. See you later, Hermione."   
  
When Ron had left, Dumbledore turned his attention on the two left in front of him.   
  
"I just thought I would ask how you two are getting along with your duties," he said. "It can be a difficult thing, especially among two students whose Houses have been enemies for so long."   
  
Draco and Hermione were silent for a moment. Then, Hermione said quietly, "Fine, Professor. Everything is going great."   
  
Hermione had thought they would talk about what happened when they reached their dormitory, but Draco once again retreated to his room. Tucking Crookshanks under one arm, Hermione went into her own room.   
  
It was rather hopeless. How were they supposed to get anything done if he would not talk to her, that was what she wanted to know. It was not good for the school to have their Head Girl and Boy not speaking.   
  
She had to resolve this. She stood swiftly, walked to Draco's corridor, and standing just outside the entrance, called to him until he answered.   
  
"What?"   
  
"We have to talk."   
  
"Not here."   
  
"Don't give me that. We're talking, now. We have to. If not so we can get along, we have to at least work together as Head Boy and Girl. Now, you will come out here or I will make you."   
  
"How?"   
  
"I have ways."   
  
Grumbling, he emerged from his room. He was wearing dark, slim-fitting jeans and no shirt. Hermione fought the urge to sigh dreamily at the sight of him, and instead tapped her foot impatiently, glaring at everything.   
  
He stood in front of her in the common room. "Okay, well, now that I have your attention, I have something to tell you."   
  
"You have *my* attention? You've been avoiding me all week!"   
  
"I got my Apparition license shortly after leaving Hogwarts last year."   
  
"Don't you dare try to blame this on me."   
  
"I became very, very angry at my father, and I left. I've been living at the flat in London for the whole summer."   
  
"Draco-"   
  
"I made you a set of keys, so you can come over whenever you want. I have them in my room, I could go and get them right now."   
  
"Ron and Harry know about us."   
  
A thick silence prevailed for a few minutes. Hermione was waiting for Draco to respond.   
  
"They know. They know? What, did that little-- Ginny tell them? I knew no one could trust her. Or did *you* tell them? I can't believe you did that, Hermione. We weren't telling anyone, remember? Or are you so overstuffed with information you couldn't hold any more? That's why you've been avoiding me, isn't it."   
  
"I didn't tell them! They saw us, that day in April, on the Quidditch pitch. Your brilliant idea was not so brilliant after all. It got us caught, and then we couldn't be together."   
  
"That's the best part," Draco fumed. "Just because your friends know, you refuse to be with me any longer. I don't see the part where everyone else's opinions come before yours, I guess I just missed it."   
  
"You don't understand. Ron was crazy. I was afraid he would go and hurt you, or tell everyone about us."   
  
"And it would be just *horrific* if people knew."   
  
"You started this whole 'let's not tell anyone' thing. Now you're blaming me for everything."   
  
"And I can take care of myself. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself from *Weasley*."   
  
"But Draco, that is not the main thing I wanted to tell you."   
  
"Well, you know what, Hermione? I don't care what it is. I honestly don't care what happens at this point, but we're through. That's it. I've had enough of this. And now look, I'm standing in the middle of our common room with no shirt on. This is wonderful."   
  
He stomped off.   
  
"Draco, wait!" Hermione was crying by then. His door had slammed shut, and no sound came from it. She sank to the floor amid her hot tears.   
  
"I love you," she said in a sobbing whisper.   
  
End Chapter 25  
  
Okay, so there's…not the resolution to their problem. I hope you liked it. (Evil…I'm eeeeeevvviiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllll…ahem).   
  
The return of Pluggy McPluggerson: I suggest you read "The Curse That Went Awry" by Skittering Hot Magenta. It's a great story…okay, it's a story me and my friend wrote, and we made up a new pen name. There's only one chapter posted so far, but I think it's worth reading. By the way, I also highly recommend "Pick Up the Pieces". It's just so damn cool.   
  
Review for confetti!! 


	27. The New Team

Chapter 26- The New Team  
  
Harry stood in front of the familiar desk in Professor Dumbledore's study. As last, the Defense teacher had arrived. He was white-haired but still looked spry, and his face was friendly and knowledgeable.   
  
"Harry Potter, Merlin. I'm Romulus Lyipin." He held out his hand.   
  
Harry coughed, and shook it. "It's nice to meet you, sir." They both sat in front of Dumbledore's desk.   
  
"Harry, I am glad you decided to do this. You need Defense more than anyone, and Professor Lyipin is willing to give you some of his extra time. One thing you should know, Harry, is that he is here in large part because of you. I asked him with your extra lessons in mind. Professor Lyipin was an Auror trainer up until a few years back, when he retired."   
  
"Auror trainer?" Harry repeated, intrigued. "Wait- you don't mean-"   
  
"Yes, Harry. It is my intention that you complete the equivalent of the first year of Auror training under the tutoring of Professor Lyipin."  
  
Harry was stunned. "Wha- well…I…"   
  
"You don't have to say anything, Harry. I just thought to let you know."   
  
"Well, thank you, Headmaster. And thank you, Professor Lyipin. This is- wow. But I'll have Quidditch and stuff too…"   
  
"We don't have to schedule anything right now," Lyipin said. "For now, we'll just play by ear, and when your schedule has become more regular, then we'll set up weekly times. Sound good?"   
  
"Sounds great," Harry said earnestly. "Um…sorry, but can I go now? We're having our first Quidditch meeting of the year, and we're voting on Captain."   
  
"Of course, Harry. Good luck."   
  
"Thanks," Harry replied, though he was not sure what the luck was supposed to be for. He walked at a polite pace until he had exited Dumbledore's office. Then, he positively sprinted toward the locker room. He was proud of himself, actually, for he made it in record time, but the other team members were waiting with their arms crossed.   
  
"What? I had a meeting with Dumbledore, guys, it's not my fault. Okay. Anything I should know before we begin?"   
  
"Sloper resigned his position," Ron said. "He was in for only a minute to tell us, and then he left, supposedly to do homework." Harry nodded. He was almost glad Sloper had left the team. He had improved, definitely, but not nearly as much as Andrew Kirke, who had gotten good enough to play against a team with Fred and George. However, he could not Beat alone.   
  
"So we'll need a Chaser and a Beater," Harry said. "Okay. First, let's vote. That's the most important thing. How do we want to do this? Secret ballot or show of hands?"   
  
"Show of hands," Ron said immediately. "And I nominate Harry Potter for team captain. All in favor?"   
  
Everyone in the room, save Harry, raised their hands.   
  
"Whoa, guys," Harry said, holding up his hands. "Hold on. You can't just-"   
  
"Sure we can," Ginny interrupted. "We go by majority, and four out of five voted for you. You have the most experience on the team, having started in your first year, and you're probably the best flyer here. You deserve it, Harry."   
  
He was silent at first, but then he broke into a grin. "Well, if you say so. I bet *that's* what Dumbledore wished me good luck about. He probably knew. Okay, that's settled. Now, we should set a date for tryouts. We need a Beater and a Chaser, but I think we should try out every position. Three of us here are seventh years. That means one less Chaser, no Keeper, and no Seeker when we leave. People need time to train and stuff. We should choose someone for those positions. Then, when captain voting comes around next year, there will actually be seven teammates. Plus, you won't have to have tryouts."   
  
"All in favor say 'I'," Ron said. Everyone said 'I'.   
  
Harry saw Ron's slight nod in his direction. "Right," Harry said. "Right. Ron and I have something to tell you guys, though one of you already knows, so really we have something to tell Seamus and Andy. We thought, since you're our teammates, you should know before everyone else. Anyway, Ron and I have been seeing each other romantically since last November."   
  
"No way," Seamus breathed. "All that time? Damn, you two are good at hiding things."   
  
"That's not what Hermione said," Ron told him.   
  
"Don't swear, Seamus," Ginny said mockingly. They all laughed, and Seamus lifted an arm around her shoulders.   
  
"Okay, so when are we having the tryouts?" Harry asked them.   
  
"Next Friday, probably. That will give everyone a chance to prepare, and then we'll be able to start practicing with them that weekend. We should book the field, Harry."   
  
"Good idea, Ginny. 'All in favor'?"   
  
"Hey!" Ron yelled, as everyone else agreed.   
  
"Okay, so tryouts are next Friday. Everyone be there. Try not to have detention that day. Trust me, it's really not fun. At least Umbitch isn't here to make people write in their own blood this year."   
  
"I second that," Ron said.   
  
"I think that's it for this meeting. We'll have practice this Friday afternoon, just to make sure we're all refamiliarized with our brooms, and then again on Tuesday afternoon. I'll book the field for the necessary times, and I'll talk to McGonagall or Dumbledore to make sure we're the only ones on the pitch."   
  
"Class dismissed," Ginny joked. She, Seamus, and Andy left.   
  
"Ron, want to help me to come up with the tryout procedure?" Harry asked as they walked.   
  
"Sure. But how hard can it be? For reserve Keeper, we should just do what they did last year. Have the hopefuls defend the hoops, while Ginny and Seamus try to score on them. I could be a Chaser for that, too, I think I'm good enough. So we'll have three chasers."   
  
"Same kind of thing should work for all of them. Have people trying out for Chaser try to score on you, and fly up and down the field passing the Quaffle around, I guess."   
  
"Well, maybe we should put them in with Ginny and Seamus, to see how they work with them. That's what's most important."   
  
"Right. And Beater should be really easy. Have the Chasers fly around, and candidates for Beater- Beat, you know. I'll fly around the pitch the whole time from above, observing everything. Then, after the tryouts, the five of us can go over everyone and decide together who was best. We can post it Saturday morning, and the new team will be ready for practice that day, right?"   
  
"Perfect." Ron flashed him a grin. "We work so well together. It's like we share a brain."   
  
"Yeah. I got the smart half." Harry laughed.   
  
"Hey! I present that!"   
  
"What?"   
  
"Exactly my point."   
  
"Told you I was the smart one."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
The black girl standing in front of him was quiet and small, but confident. She would make a great Seeker. However, when Harry asked, she said she wanted to try out for the position of…  
  
"Beater? Are you sure?"   
  
"Yes." Her answer was definite.   
  
"All right. Name?"   
  
"Brianna Jordan."   
  
"Any relation to Lee Jordan? Just wondering."   
  
"He's my brother. Since he's six years older than me, we almost never saw each other in school last year, and he went off to Liberia as soon as he got out of school."   
  
"So, you're a second year, then?"   
  
"Yes…can I get out of line now?"   
  
"Oh. Yeah. Go ahead."   
  
Twelve students had shown up for tryouts. They had the most important positions go first- those being Chasers and Beaters. Ron was a great Keeper now, and he barely let a goal go by. However, there was one who performed exceptionally well, and even got three goals past Ron. His name was Eric Welshen. Harry marked him down as 'very good'.   
  
From his experience with Beaters, he did not expect much from a small girl like Brianna. He watched nervously as she took to the air, hovering until the Bludgers were loosed. Then she took off, speeding in every direction, ready to catch a Bludger and swat it the other way with her bare hands, if need be. In summation, she was like a miniature Fred-and-George with the bat.   
  
When Beater tryouts were over, Harry flew down to Ron. "Did you see her?"   
  
"Of course. Why do you think I let those five goals pass? I was watching her. She's amazing. You'd never expect it from a little thing like her."   
  
"So she's definitely in."   
  
"Without a doubt."   
  
An hour later, tryouts had finished. The hopefuls shouldered their brooms and went back to the dorm, while the five teammates retreated into the locker room to discuss their choices.   
  
Naturally, Brianna Jordan was the choice for Beater. It took them less than ten seconds to decide on her. Harry wrote her name on the list of new teammates.   
  
"I noticed Eric Welshen for Chaser. He did really well. What do you guys think?"   
  
"He worked really well with us," Ginny said. "And he actually scored, which is more than we could say for anyone else. With a little training, he'll be as good as me. No, I'm just kidding. But really, I think he's the one."   
  
"Yeah, me too," Seamus agreed. Harry marked him down.   
  
By the end of this meeting, the list read thus:   
  
Beater: Brianna Jordan  
  
Chaser: Eric Welshen  
  
Reserve Chaser: Natalie Baker  
  
Reserve Keeper: Euan Abercrombie  
  
Reserve Seeker: Dennis Creevey  
  
Note: Next year the reserve players will be regulars.  
  
"Okay, so this looks good to everyone, right?" Harry asked. They looked over the list, and all nodded. "Good. It'll be posted in the common room tomorrow morning."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
The next morning, twelve students were gathered by the bulletin board, waiting for Harry to wake up. Other students stopped and waited with them, eager to find out who was on their Quidditch team. Harry smiled when he came down.   
  
"Go eat breakfast. The list will be posted when you come back."   
  
Sighing in disappointed, they shuffled out of the common room.   
  
Shaking his head in amusement, Harry posted the list, pinning up under it the schedule for that month's practices.   
  
"Hey," Ron said from behind him. "Where is everyone? I thought they'd all be lined up to see who made it."  
  
"They were," Harry said, smiling. "I sent them down to breakfast. After all, we have practice today, they're going to need it."  
  
The new team members were bouncing excitedly on the pitch twenty minutes before the start of practice. "Harry! Hi, Harry! Wow, I can't believe I made the team!" Dennis Creevey called, waving.   
  
"That's great, Dennis," Harry muttered back. In all honesty, though, the Creeveys had been less annoying since the previous year.   
  
When the entire team had shown up, Harry told them his plan for that practice. "All right, now. Here's the plan. We're going to work on coordination today, just passing the Quaffle back and forth, and flying down the field. We have to work together as a team, first and foremost. Once we learn each other's timing, then we can hone our individual skills. Okay, everyone, let's go!"   
  
Harry had the Quaffle under his arm. Before they had all finished rising, he had passed it to Andy, who then flew around the back of the goals and threw it to Brianna. She barely touched it before it soared toward Ron, who then sent it in Eric Welshen's direction, who caught it expertly.   
  
Harry observed from above, once in a while passing the Quaffle, reminding the team to pay attention whenever someone wasn't. He liked what he was seeing. In a few minutes, they were passing so quickly that sometimes he could only see a red blur.   
  
He flew over to Ron. "We're doing really well. I think we should end practice for no-OW!" He put a hand to the back of his head, turning just in time to see Seamus fly under him to catch the Quaffle. Ginny had a hand over her mouth. She removed it briefly to laugh, "Pay attention, Harry!"   
  
The team laughed. After glaring at her, Harry joined in. "Ha ha, that's so funny," he said when they had recovered from their fits of mirth. "Good practice, everyone. We certainly have the timing thing down. Well, that's all for today. I'd say we have a promising team, for this year and next."   
  
Everyone clapped heartily, as though Harry had just given them an inspirational speech. He rolled his eyes and descended, glad that at least this team had a sense of humor.   
  
His own humor was tested greatly when he returned to Gryffindor Tower. Neville was sitting in a large armchair, but he sprang up when Harry entered. "Where are you going, Harry?" he asked.   
  
"To our room, Neville," Harry replied slowly. He wondered if something was wrong. "Why?"   
  
"Uh, maybe you shouldn't go in there."   
  
"What? It's my room, sure I should."   
  
"No, Harry, just wait-"   
  
But Harry, now intensely curious, was approaching the seventh year boy's dorms. When he entered he was met with a maddening sight.   
  
Professor McGonagall was standing in front of his bed, trying all sorts of spells to remove the paint from his bed hangings. "Damn permanent-"   
  
"Did you just swear, Professor?" he asked.   
  
She whirled. She was still blocking what he was trying to see. "Mr. Potter! Ah, this is not something I want you to see, but I think you have to see it." She stepped aside sadly, showing him what someone had painted on his bed hangings.   
  
Rage swelled within him. McGonagall saw this, and tried to reason with him, but he was livid. He stalked to the curtains and ripped them down with a strength born of anger.   
  
Someone, in bright pink paint, had written the word 'FAG' on his red velvet bed hangings.   
  
End Chapter 26  
  
Lyipin = LIE-pin  
  
Boomkat- I don't know why you said Draco should die. I really don't get it… And I'm not *ending* with anyone's marriage. But why do you think Draco should die? Hmm…  
  
Duhn duhn DUUUUUUUUUH!! What will happen next. I'll try to give you a hint. The next chapter is called 'Discrimination'.   
  
Thank eeeu my lovely reviewers. CONFETTI!!! 


	28. Discrimination

Chapter 27- Discrimination   
  
All week Harry heard nothing but "Potter is a fag" and "Harry Puffer" and "Weasley is a gold-digger". He was thoroughly annoyed by the whole thing, and was about ready to curse the next person who said anything. Ron beat him to it, though.   
  
"Ron, what happened?" Harry asked when Ron had entered the common room.   
  
"Crabbe was insulting us," Ron said simply. "I had already heard enough of this stuff for today. I just turned around and used the first curse that came to mind."   
  
"Ron- you didn't-"   
  
"No, of course I didn't use an Unforgivable. I was angry, not stupid. Anyway, I think it was a Memory Charm, but I forgot to control the force of it. Convenient, eh?"   
  
"So what happened then?"   
  
"Well, Crabbe is in the hospital wing. It kind of reminds me of Lockhart, and how he was when he was being a stupid git in our second year and tried to use the charm on you. I think I erased his entire memory."  
  
"Didn't you get in trouble?"   
  
"Oh, that. Well, I got a detention, but I'm serving it under Dumbledore, so it shouldn't be that bad. He just wants me to help him write something, or prepare something. Or both. I don't remember. He actually seemed angrier at Crabbe than me."   
  
"Well, good," Harry said. "He should be."  
  
"Damn right. Who gave people the right to talk about us in front of our faces, anyway?"   
  
"How about to talk about us at all. That's what I want to know," Harry added.   
  
"It'll have to be taken care of."   
  
The next night at dinner, it was. Dumbledore stood before the food appeared, and the entire hall was silent. "It has come to my attention that there has been rather free insulting of two of the students here. Everyone knows who they are. They have recently come out- accidentally- as homosexual, and now they are being ridiculed for it. I do not tolerate this behavior, and neither should any of you. You have no right to judge, to discriminate against a person because of their sexual orientation. From this point, anyone heard using this kind of language, written or spoken, will be punished. First offenders will only lose House points, but be warned that your second time we will not be lenient. If it does not stop, something *will* be done. Thank you. That is all."   
  
The food appeared on the table, and Ron and Harry, satisfied that their problems were beginning to be over, piled it onto their plates.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Under the circumstances," Snape said, sneering as usual, though less than while talking to Harry, "You are to be Quidditch captain."   
  
"Yes, sir," Draco replied, not at all surprised. The previous year's team had all graduated but for him, Crabbe, and Goyle. They were now- unavailable.   
  
"You will need a new team," Snape continued. "I suggest you hold tryouts within the next few days. Our first match is at the end of November. I expect they will be ready by then if the team is formed now?"   
  
"Yes, sir," Draco said again. Snape dismissed him. Draco went to work immediately.   
  
~* Tryouts for the Quidditch team are to be held at five o'clock on September 20. All positions except Seeker are open. Second years and above may try out. Those with an IQ below the aforementioned number need not show up, you will not be chosen. Students must know how to fly, because we will not be teaching you.*~   
  
This was the bulletin Draco put up that night announcing tryouts. Sagittus stood behind him as he tacked it up, chuckling.   
  
"What?" Draco finally asked, annoyed.   
  
"You know how many that rules out?" Sagittus said.   
  
"Yes. That's the whole point."   
  
"We should at least start to plan the Halloween celebration, or the Hogsmeade trips," Hermione said, crossing her arms in front of him. "All boys *ever* think about is Quidditch."   
  
"Tell you what," he said disinterestedly. He had been acting this way toward her ever since their *falling out*. "Why don't you start, and when I come back I'll help you. You can handle starting on your own, right?"  
  
She huffed. "I suppose."   
  
"I can't delay tryouts for this. We have plenty of time to work on it." That said, he shouldered his broom and left their dormitory. He had been keeping his broom in his bedroom, not trusting it to be in the safekeeping of the Slytherin locker room.   
  
Tryouts did not seem promising at first. A rather small amount of Slytherins had shown up for it, and Draco would not have given any of them a second glance at any other time. All except Sagittus, who was trying out for one of the Chaser positions.   
  
By the end of the tryout session, Draco had already formed the team in his mind. Only one of the students was above fifth year, which would be useful for future continuity. He only had to turn down two of the students who had not performed as well, and the rest made the team. He announced them at the end of it, and set their first practice for a week from that day.   
  
Hermione had quite an extensive list when he returned. Much of it was Halloween, some Hogsmeade, and she had even started on Christmas.   
  
"And I checked our duties and privileges list. We're allowed to visit Hogsmeade during free time before curfew as Head Boy and Girl."   
  
"My, you have been busy," he commented wryly.   
  
After changing into fresh clothes, he sat down with her, and though he barely talked to her and ignored her as much as possible, by the end of the night they had planned a bloody brilliant Halloween celebration.   
  
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Hermione was satisfied with the work done with Draco, but she was not satisfied with their relationship. She refused to tell him what she had said when he was out of earshot unless he brought up the subject. He avoided it like the plague. She, therefore, ignored it like Pansy Parkinson's vain attempt at an insult.   
  
She was sitting in her room, and she decided she wanted to write to someone. She could not think of who. She did not want to tell Harry, or Ron. They would not care. It did not seem right to tell her parents. Finally, she took out a sheet of parchment and began a letter.   
  
~* Dear Mr. Dubeyji…*~  
  
She received a reply within a week.   
  
~* Dear Hermione,   
  
It is good to hear from you. I have only one thing to say. You must find a way to make peace with your heart, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.  
  
Sincerely, Parbatlal Dubeyji*~  
  
It was excellent advice, but she could not bear to follow it. She swore she would not be the one to bring up "us" in any conversation with Draco. She was not about to break her promise to herself. Besides, if he wanted her, he would have let her explain. She should have known it was too good to be true.   
  
Thoroughly in need of music that would make her cry, she took out her CD player and a disc of the Weird Sisters that she had made at the Weasleys'. She popped it in, and setting the player on repeat, skipped to the song entitled "Sorrow Unavoidable". She listened to it for what must have been hours. She even forgot to go down to dinner.   
  
A dark spot formed on her sheets from her tears. At least, she thought so at first. Gradually, a dull, throbbing pain in her eye sharpened, and she got up to see if cold water would help. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she clapped her hand to the side of her face in horror. She ran down to the common room, rushing to reach the portrait.   
  
"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked.   
  
She turned to him, momentarily taking her hand away. In that moment he could see the blood pouring from above her eye. His face paled briefly (more than usual), and he took her arm. "You have to go to the hospital wing."   
  
When she was there, Madame Pomfrey healed her quickly, but she seemed greatly troubled. She fetched the headmaster as quickly as she could, and explained what had happened.   
  
Dumbledore sat down next to Hermione, gravely looking at her. "I have a warning for you," he said. "The injury you just experienced is a result of a curse that we now call 'My Eye Is On You'. Have you ever heard of it?"   
  
She nodded, wide-eyed. "It was designed by Grindelwald to make people think he was watching them, preparing to attack. Sometimes he did, sometimes he did not. The point of it was to instill fear."   
  
"Yes. But you missed the most important part. It was only used on Muggle-borns. You now have reason to be on your guard constantly. I would ask that you not leave the interior of the castle by yourself. Definitely do not leave Hogwarts grounds unaccompanied. Mister Malfoy is probably the most convenient companion for you. I must make an announcement about this to the school, warning all Muggle-borns here to be wary. If anything like this happens again, make sure you come immediately here."   
  
"Yes, Headmaster."   
  
Hermione was frightened. She knew this day would come, the moment she had found out about Voldemort and his awful campaign. She had not thought it would happen until she was at least out of school, away from the knowledge of Dumbledore. Voldemort was finished playing it safe. He was now attacking people right out, under the eyes of his greatest enemies.   
  
The war had been brewing, but now it was coming to a boil.  
  
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Draco left the hospital wing before Dumbledore spoke to Hermione. He left, in fact, as soon as he heard the headmaster mention the curse used. He knew what was really going on. It was all connected to the threat his father made when he left the mansion for good.   
  
Lucius was as good as his word. He had threatened Hermione, and now he was acting on his words. Draco could not dare get close to her again. He would keep pushing her away no matter what it cost him.   
  
End Chapter 27  
  
To clarify: The first Quidditch meeting for Gryffindor was approximately the second day of school- why else would he have had to meet the DADA professor? I mean, he would have met him in class, right? Ah, now it all becomes clear to you. The Goyle thing did not happen until about a week later. At least.   
  
Thanks you for the reviews! Skittering hot magenta confetti to you if you review this chapter!!! 


	29. Surprising Attire

Chapter 28- Surprising Attire  
  
Ravenclaw was good, but Harry had no doubt that his team was ready to face them for their first match. Eric Welshen, Seamus and Ginny performed wondrously together. Brianna streaked from one end of the pitch to the other in no time, and Andy got all the space in between with practiced timing. He gave them a much, much, much shorter version of Oliver Wood's pep talk.   
  
"Right, guys. We're ready for Ravenclaw. Let's win."   
  
Harry shook hand with the Ravenclaw captain, and they all ascended on Madame Hooch's whistle.   
  
Within five minutes, Gryffindor had scored four goals, and Ravenclaw had not yet gained possession of the Quaffle. Seamus was hit in the stomach with a Bludger, and he had to sit out for a few minutes to recover. Unfortunately, he dropped the Quaffle, which ended up in the hands of a Ravenclaw Chaser. She took a shot on goal, but Ron was able to block it, and sent it into Ginny's hands.   
  
He looked quickly at the Ravenclaw Seeker. He was watching Harry closely from the other side of the field. Apparently, he was trying to mark him without being too obvious. Harry would have some fun. He started to fly slowly around the pitch, then sped up as he continued to round the stands. The other Seeker would either be distracted following him, or made dizzy watching. The former turned out to happen.   
  
Harry, suddenly, burst forward, toward the opposite end of the field. He had just spotted the snitch. Gryffidor was now ninety points up, and his Firebolt served him as always. His fingers closed around the Snitch before the entire audience realized that he had seen it.   
  
"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor, leaving the score at two hundred eighty to thirty! And don't forget to wear your costumes to dinner tonight-"   
  
"Dean Thomas, you are not here to remind the students of school functions. They are all aware that it is Halloween."   
  
No matter who was announcing, Harry thought, they would always be yelled at.   
  
"Awesome, Harry!" Ron shouted, flying over and giving him a firm kiss. They had decided not to be discreet in the least, since everyone knew anyway. After a large team hug, they retreated into the locker room to change.   
  
Harry then gave them a post-game pep talk. "That was amazing, everyone! Hufflepuff won't stand a chance against us, they're not nearly as good as Ravenclaw. Slytherin is another story, but no need to worry about that now. Give yourselves a huge pat on the back, you all did great."   
  
Harry and Ron were the last to leave. They had to change into clean uniforms for dinner. They had decided to go as Quidditch players. "I can just imagine Hermione. 'That's not a costume. You didn't put any effort into it. Besides, you *are* Quidditch players'." Ron grinned.   
  
"If she was even talking these days," Harry muttered back as they approached the Great Hall. "She barely speaks to anyone but the teachers. I'm kind of worried…whoa." He never finished his thought. It was completely pushed from his mind by the sight of the transformed dining hall.   
  
To begin with, the ceiling was cloudy, though Harry knew the night to be clear. Swirling fog clung to the floor. Instead of candles providing light, the room was lit with archaic-looking torches, placed at intervals throughout the room. A predatory gargoyle stood inside the door, its head turning to watch students enter. The benches at the House tables had been turned to creepy, tall armchairs, with cobwebs covering them. Harry could swear he saw glowing eyes staring at him as he sat.   
  
The most surprising bit of the evening was yet to come. When every one had sat down- and it took a while for Ginny, because she and Ron were bickering. He was trying to convince her to change, and she kept telling him to sod off. She was wearing a very skimpy Amazon woman outfit. Two unfamiliar figures appeared in front of the staff table, rising out of the mist.   
  
"Good evening," the woman said somberly. She was wearing a dress of black velvet that was quite low cut, and accentuated her desirable figure. *At least, I would have found it desirable before I found out I liked guys.* Her hair was black, and pulled back tightly into a complicated twist. She had very pale skin, and her lips were a dark red color, like blood.   
  
"We will be your host and hostess for the evening," the man continued. His hair hung to his shoulders in waves, and he had dark brown eyes. He wore an elegant, medieval-type suit of black. The neck was cut to expose some of his chest.   
  
"You might think you know us as your Head Boy and Girl," the woman said.   
  
Harry's jaw dropped open. These people were *Hermione* and *Malfoy*? It did not seem possible. They both looked so completely different. When he realized how ridiculous he must look, he closed his mouth, and surveyed the rest of the room. Ginny was the only student who did not seem shocked.   
  
"We offer you fine food, drink, and company," Malfoy said, gesturing through the room.   
  
"Pay no attention to the creatures you may think you see lurking in the corners. They are merely curious," Hermione added, before taking one of the seats at a small table Harry had not noticed before. Malfoy took the other. It was a small table, set for two, with the chairs facing out toward the hall. They were clearly arranged to watch the students.   
  
The food, to Harry's relief, was the typical Halloween-feast-at-Hogwarts fare. As he was filling his plate, he said, "I can't believe Hermione planned this. I had no idea she could come up with stuff like this."   
  
"I know. It's kind of scary," Ron said. Ginny coughed slightly.   
  
"You know what's missing?" Ron asked after a while.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Dessert." It was true. None of the sugary, fattening, unhealthy, heart-attack-bearing, teeth-rotting food had been set out. "It's probably Hermione's dentist genes kicking in, trying to keep the school healthy. Oh, I hope the house elves ignore her like always."   
  
He was proven wrong, to everyone's relief, when dinner disappeared only to be replaced by all the sugary, fattening, unhealthy, heart-attack-bearing, teeth-rotting food they had all come to expect.   
  
When the feast had been consumed to the point of stomachs near to bursting, Dumbledore rose. "Now, comes the surprise for- most of you. The judging of the costumes. The winner will receive ten galleons in prize money. I think it will come as no surprise to you that we have decided upon joint winners, and they are Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."   
  
Harry had to agree. He had not recognized either one of them- those were *good* costumes. They stood to claim their prize, and sat again. They remained silently watchful as the rest of the school filed out.  
  
"It's a little disturbing," Ron said later. He and Harry were sitting on his bed- Ron's, that is. "She looked way too comfortable in that costume."   
  
"There is a reason they call it a *costume*, Ron," Harry said, rolling his eyes.   
  
"Still," Ron shuddered. "It was just too weird."  
  
"Hmm. I do have a question."   
  
"What is it?"   
  
"Were you planning on talking about Hermione all night?"   
  
Ron grinned. "No. I was actually hoping we could…do other things."   
  
"As was I," Harry winked.   
  
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Hermione washed the last of the potion out of her hair before beginning to scrub the pale makeup off her face. Recalling the night's events, she decided that the effort her costume had taken, the pain of planning with Draco when he would barely look at her, everything, was all worth it, just to see the look on Harry and Ron's faces when they realized who she was.   
  
*They're probably making out right now,* she thought. *Some people have all the fun. Me? I have a boyfriend who does not speak to me, and my life is miserable.*   
  
It was hot for the time of year. Hermione slipped into a rather small pair of blue and white striped shorts and a sleeveless black shirt. "Damn," she said to herself, realizing that her books were all in the common room. She went to get them.   
  
As she passed Draco's corridor, she saw him walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He caught sight of her and slowed, walking into the doorframe of his bedroom.   
  
Blushing, Hermione hurried back to her own corridor. "I will not give in, I will not give in, I will not-"   
  
She had to get into bed immediately, and pull the covers up over her head, with the Weird Sisters blasting in her ears in order to get the image of a tall, attractive Slytherin in nothing but a towel staring at her out of her head.   
  
End Chapter 28  
  
It was brought to my attention that a CD player would not work at Hogwarts, so when I say CD player, I mean…magical CD player? I don't know. Use your imagination.   
  
Love reviews I do! Yoda turning into am I! Disguised confetti review for!!…because of the whole costume thing…ahem. Yeah. 


	30. Support Me

Chapter 29- Support Me  
  
Their first match being against Hufflepuff, Draco was not in the least bit worried. He had chosen his team well. They would fairly slaughter Hufflepuff.   
  
He was a bit depressed, however, that Hermione would not be there to watch him and cheer him on. He realized as he pulled on his uniform that he had come to rely on her support. He always did better when she was around. *It's your own damn fault. You've been cold to her since beginning of term. She wanted to talk to you, remember?*  
  
He was quite surprised by what he saw halfway through the match. In one secluded part of the Gryffindor section sat a lone female figure. He knew her immediately. It was Hermione. She had brought books with her, and parchment and a quill, but he saw her constant glances in his direction as he watched her.   
  
"Better watch it," Sagittus muttered as he passed. "Or someone else will get the Snitch out from under your nose."   
  
Draco looked down. The golden winged ball flittered a few feet below him. Smiling subtlety at Hermione, he spun downward, grabbing the Snitch in his hand. They had won, not surprisingly. Draco flew by the Gryffindor stands before alighting on the ground. He exchanged a meaningful look with Hermione. She looked about to cry, but she smiled before burying her nose into her book.   
  
He spent the next few minutes predicting their Quidditch season. They would win against Ravenclaw, no question. They were not about to start losing *more*. Gryffindor was another matter. They had not beaten them since he had been at Hogwarts. He wanted to, to show people that Potter was human, to show them that someone could be better at something than the famous Harry Potter. They would have to work to beat Gryffindor.   
  
After this, he flew slowly around the Quidditch pitch alone, trying to distract himself from…other things. Damn it. She was the one thing he wished he could stop thinking about, and the one thing he just could not get out of his head. He wondered if she thought about him, aside from working together as Head Boy and Girl.   
  
*Forget it. You ruined your chances to be happy with her. She was going to be with you, you know it, but you just will not let her close. I don't care. As long as she's safe, it doesn't matter. Her life matters much more than your happiness, you selfish prick.*   
  
He became aware of the approaching figures slowly. They were dark-robed and hooded, and wore masks. All had wands out. He had only a second to react. He muttered a spell, pointing his wand at his broom, and he sent it off on its own.   
  
He barely had time to turn before several voices yelled "STUPEFY!" and blackness enveloped him.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco awoke with a start and knew one thing immediately. He had been kidnapped. He was bound to some kind of chair, but it was not in any place that it should have been. It was, instead, in a clearing in the middle of a forest.   
  
A forest.   
  
He struggled against his bonds, holding his arms and legs in place, but it was futile. The effort of trying to rip his ties apart with sheer force was cutting off his circulation. He froze at the sound of his father's voice.   
  
"There was a question," he said, "that we wanted the answer to. If a dragon falls in the forest, and nobody is there to see it, will they ever find the body? We decided to do an experiment. You were our first choice. Don't you feel honored?"   
  
*Oh, no. No. Please, no, do not let this happen. It worked, it worked, I know it did, she'll be here, she'll bring help. She wouldn't let me die. Would she? It worked, she'll come. No, please, no.*   
  
"Crucio!" his father cried. He strained against the ropes preventing him from curling into a tight ball. He felt his muscles hardening, an intense pain directed at his stomach. Oh, yes, it was definitely his father. He knew his worst spot. He had not yet cried out, and he would not. He would not, WOULD NOT, ^would not^…  
  
It stopped suddenly. He breathed heavily, his arms sagging in whatever was holding him. No matter how often his father had used the curse on him, he could not build up any resistance. That was one reason why Lucius *had* done it so often.   
  
"I'll bet that did not feel too good. We could stop this right now." Draco did not respond. He knew what was coming. "If you joined the Dark Lord, this would no longer be necessary. All you have to do is say the word."   
  
Draco was silent as he continued to stare at the ground. If he had his wand, then perhaps… his wand. Where was it? Ah, there-   
  
His father held his wand close to his face. He had just used it on him. His own father. Had just used his own wand. To perform an Unforgivable on him. His own bloody fucking wand. His own damned father, his own fucking wand.   
  
"No? Well, perhaps you just need more convincing. Crucio!" The pain spread through his body again, causing him to scrunch up his face. But he did not cry out. He would not. Even though it felt like he was being slowly ripped into a thousand pieces after having his skin peeled off with a red hot dull iron.   
  
Once again the pain receded, but he did not hope for a true respite before Lucius asked him to join Voldemort for the second time. Draco still said nothing. Lucius sighed, as though in regret, though he obviously enjoyed this job immensely.   
  
"CRUCIO!!"   
  
The pain was so many times multiplied that Draco could not even think. He lost control of his muscles, and jerked in restrained spasms. He heard a terrifying scream rent the air, only vaguely knowing that it was his own.   
  
The curse was cut off abruptly. He went limp, not daring to move lest his aching muscles give out completely. His eyes were closed because when he opened them he only saw spots. Just one more to add to the list of times his own fucking father had used Cruciatus on him.   
  
Someone untied him, gently rubbing his arms and ankles to restore circulation. He concentrated on his breathing, just to be sure that he still was. Someone called to him, but he was unable to respond.   
  
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Hermione's face.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione sat in the Head common room, doing research for her Transfiguration essay. She was hard pressed to concentrate, too distracted by the look she had shared with Draco earlier that day. It had been a look of love, she knew it. So why was he ignoring her, acting as though they had never been more than acquaintances?   
  
At first she thought the tapping at her window was that of an owl. That was, after all, the only thing she knew of that made that sound. She opened the window, which was larger by far than was necessary, and a broom flew in, hovering above the floor. She was not familiar with brooms, but somehow she knew that this was Draco's.   
  
"Why would he send me his broom?" she wondered aloud. He knew she was terrible at flying, so unless he had no other choice, he would not ask her to-   
  
He had no other choice. She left the broom for a minute, and ran to Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall emerged just as she reached it. She was out of breath, but managed to get out, "Draco is in trouble! We have to- help- Dumbledore- help-"   
  
Tight-lipped, the Transfiguration teacher whirled back around and into the headmaster's office. The two of them emerged a moment later, and all three of them were in Hermione's dorm in no time.   
  
"He sent me his broom. I think he put a spell on it, for it to take me to him."   
  
"Perhaps I should take it, Miss Granger."   
  
"Headmaster, I know Draco. He would have spelled it so that only I could take it. Just to be safe, you know? He is a little paranoid."   
  
Dumbledore solved the problem by sending Fawkes along with her. She stood for as long as she dared, waiting to mount the broom. She was scared out of her wits to be that high above the ground all alone.   
  
*If you do not get on the damn broom, he may be dead by the time anyone can reach him.* With the memory of her flight with Draco supporting her from behind, she swung her leg over. The broom took off, as fast as it dared with a person aboard, and she hung on for dear life to the handle.   
  
The broom flew her over the trees, to a clearing deep into the forest. She was getting used to flying again, but also had to imagine Draco behind her to feel safe. But he was not, she could feel it. And she did not think she alone would be enough.   
  
The clearing contained a fair number of Death Eaters, and a figure tied to a chair in the middle. He had pale, slicked back hair, and he was writhing in pain. She almost panicked when she saw Draco under the Cruciatus Curse, and the broom had to lower itself to keep her from falling to her doom.   
  
Dumbledore arrived close behind her, and charged forward, wand at the ready. The Death Eaters (cowards) did not even try to fight him. They scattered in all directions, knowing that he could easily out-magic them all. Hermione saw, in the hand of one Death Eater, a piece of wood she could recognize immediately. She could not let the evil bastard get away with it.   
  
"Accio Draco's wand!"   
  
It flew to her, straight into her hand. When she had the wand in her possession, she ran to the chair, using her own wand to quickly untie the ropes holding Draco. She rubbed at his arms when she saw the lines left by the ropes, and the limpness of his muscles. It would not restore all of the circulation, but it would help.   
  
"Draco," she said softly, standing in front of him. She wondered where Dumbledore had gone. "Draco, come on. Please get up. Draco, please. You have to get up."   
  
Eventually he did open his eyes, and he looked extremely relieved to see her. Dumbledore appeared at her shoulder, startling her. "He looks as well as can be expected. We have to get him back to the castle. Help him up."   
  
"My wand," Draco said. "Where is my wand? The bastard took it, didn't he…"   
  
"I have it, Draco," Hermione told him. "Don't worry. You need to rest now, but first you have to stand. Come on."   
  
With the help of the headmaster, she managed to get him on his feet. He leaned heavily on her. Upset by his helplessness, she managed to find the strength to support him while Dumbledore made them a portkey. It took them directly to the hospital wing.  
  
"What is going- oh, my word!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "Get him into a bed, right away! What happened to him?"   
  
"The Cruciatus Curse, Poppy. He was taken by Death Eaters."   
  
"Death Eaters! Merlin, no. Now they're popping up on school grounds, picking off students left and right. This cannot be allowed, Professor Dumbledore!"   
  
"It will not be. All we can do right now, however, is put Mister Malfoy in a bed."   
  
Draco was put into the nearest bed. He sank down in delirium, unaware of the people surrounding him, not even knowing where he was. "Miss Granger, you can come back tomorrow to visit him. It is very late, past visiting hours, and-"  
  
"Poppy," Dumbledore said calmly, "let her stay. She has my personal permission to stay with the Head Boy tonight."   
  
"Yes, headmaster," Madame Pomfrey acquiesced. She bustled about, tipping a potion down Draco's throat, before disappearing again, admonishing Hermione that if she was going to stay, she must at least get some sleep. Hermione said yes, but she had no intention of sleeping.   
  
It was late. Very late. It had to be a few hours past midnight. Hermione knew she should have been tired, but she could not bear to leave Draco's side. She was afraid something else would happen if she was not paying attention. She fell to stroking his hair, soothing him in sleep. He stirred slightly, turning toward her. His eyes flickered open. "Hermione."   
  
She froze. "Yes, Draco?" she whispered. "I'm here."   
  
"I love you," he said, and drifted away again.   
  
Tears sprang to her eyes. She took his hand in hers, kissing it. She wept for a few minutes, tears of happiness, anger, horror, sadness, stress, and everything else she could think to feel. He woke fully, though still bleary-eyed, to her crying.   
  
"What is the matter?" he asked, wiggling his fingers as though to make sure his hand was really there- or hers was.   
  
She wiped some of the moisture from her face, sniffling. "I love you too."   
  
He pulled her close, into the bed next to him. She felt his supporting arms around her, even though a few hours ago he had been the one needing the strength of another. Now she needed his strength, and she was receiving it. For the first time, she realized, since May, and that night under the tree. She snuggled against him, finally admitting to him and to herself her true feelings.   
  
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"Lavender! You will never guess who I just saw when I was walking past the hospital wing!" Parvati cried out. Of course, she had no real reason to walk by the hospital wing. She and Lavender alternated going up there from time to time, to be sure they were on top of all the gossip.   
  
"Who, Parvati?"   
  
Harry was about to gag. They went through the same routine every day. He looked at Ron, who pretended to vomit, then rolled his eyes. Harry tried not to laugh, staring at his mashed potatoes.   
  
"I saw Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. And they were in the *same bed*. And they were *cuddling*! Can you believe it?"   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged worried glances. Well, Harry would call his own glance worried, but he thought furious would describe Ron's better. "Ron, you are not going up there."   
  
"Yes I am."   
  
Harry stalked after him, but not fast enough. Ron reached the hospital wing before he did. Harry prepared himself to see someone being strangled or cursed when he entered, but he only saw Ron, standing in the middle of the otherwise empty hospital wing.   
  
End Chapter 29   
  
Your prayers have been answered! They're back together! I hope you liked this chapter, because I did. Poor Draco.   
  
Thank you for your reviewses. CONFETTI!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	31. Defense Before Class

Chapter 30- Defense Before Class  
  
"I will never enter a forest again," Draco stated. He and Hermione had just returned to their dormitory from the hospital wing.   
  
"I can understand that. I mean, you didn't like them before, now…you must…"  
  
"How did you know?" He asked sharply.   
  
"First year, remember? That detention we all had with Hagrid."   
  
"Oh, yeah." He glanced at her. She was staring expectantly at him. He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll tell you why. My father has been using the Cruciatus Curse on me for years. The first time he ever did it, I was in a forest. I was three years old."   
  
"Three years old?" Hermione repeated breathily, her eyes wide. "What kind of a man would do that?"   
  
"The kind that's named Lucius Malfoy," Draco replied. For the something-eth time, he wished he had been born into a different family. "Hermione, I am sorry for the way I've been acting. I was such a jerk."   
  
"I know," she said. "It doesn't matter. We can be together now."   
  
"It does," he insisted. "I want you to know why. Not far into the summer, my father came and offered me a position in the ranks of Voldemort. I refused, and…we both got angry. I accidentally told him that you and I were together. As I was leaving, he threatened to hurt you. I believed him- and I still do. He is trying to spite me. That is what this whole thing last night was about. They still want me to become a Death Eater."   
  
"Oh, Draco. I'm so sorry." She threw her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I'm sorry it took something like this for us to get back together."   
  
"Were we broken up?"   
  
"Well, not exactly. But I was afraid to be with you. I was afraid of my own feelings. Now I admit them whole-heartedly."  
  
"I'm glad," he said quietly. "Now, should I go get us some lunch?"   
  
"I think yes."   
  
Draco walked to the door exit. Potter and Weasley entered as soon as he tried to leave, pushing him back into the room. "No! Ron, stop it!" Hermione shouted.   
  
Ron paid no attention. He was fighting against Harry's hold to get at Draco. Draco was busy wrenching his arm free of Ron's grip. They each managed their feats at the same moment, and they toppled to the floor.   
  
Draco did not manage to get out his warning for Hermione not to come any closer, and she and Harry tried to break up their fight. Ron's arm went up, hitting Hermione's jaw firmly. Her eyes watered, and she staggered back against the wall.   
  
When Ron realized what he had done, he let Harry pull him away. Draco ignored the other two men in the room, and went to Hermione. She was sitting on the floor, holding her face gently in her hands. It looked like it was hurting her to cry. She succumbed to his arms as he encircled her in a comforting embrace. He glared at Weasley, who stared at Hermione with a look of deep remorse.   
  
"Hermione…I'm sorry."   
  
She just shook her head, still unable to speak, and wiped at her nose. "Do you need some tissues?" Draco asked her. She nodded, and he went to his bathroom to retrieve some. She accepted them, and cleaned herself up.   
  
"Now look what you've done, Weasley," Draco snarled. "You should just leave us alone. We have the right to do whatever we want without your interference."   
  
"Draco. No," Hermione said, slowly and quietly. Ron must have really injured her.   
  
"He could have seriously hurt you, Hermione, and he was definitely bent on doing the same to me. What is his problem, anyway?"   
  
"I thought you weren't going to see him anymore, Hermione! I mean- well, he's Malfoy!"   
  
"I'm sure she noticed," Draco said, feeling offended.   
  
"Draco is right, though, Ron," Hermione said. "You cannot tell me who to be with. I am in love with Draco, and you need to accept that."   
  
"The whole school is finding out about you two as we speak, from Parvati and Lavender. Soon everyone will know. What will they think of you, Hermione?" Ron seemed committed to making her unwilling to stay with him.   
  
"Let the entire world know," Hermione said, as firmly as she could manage without wincing. "We love each other. It does not matter who knows anymore. But you, Ron, and Harry as well, you need to understand that Draco is no longer an enemy. He never was, really. You do not have to like each other. That cannot be forced. But I will not allow you to fight. Even if you don't like each other, you will *respect* each other, and you will be civil, because we are all on the same side."   
  
Draco could not believe what he was hearing. He was supposed to respect Potter and Weasley. "I might have to work on that," he muttered.   
  
"I can handle that," Harry said, in a quite surprising move. "But for Ron it will take some time. Right now I think I have to drag him from the room. See you later, Hermione."   
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said again as Harry did just what he said he would.   
  
When they had gone, Draco turned to Hermione. "Are you all right, sweetie?"   
  
She broke into a grin. "You've never called me that before. Yes, I'm fine. I just wanted to give Ron a hard time. You know, he's being such an insufferable git about the whole thing. Harry's been good about it, but I think Ron is just crazy."   
  
"It took you that long to figure it out?" he asked, half serious.   
  
"I guess so."   
  
"And they say you're smart."   
  
"Hey! That is not nice."   
  
He reached out with his magic, and he lifted her about a foot off the floor. Her eyes were level with his. "Is this nice?"   
  
She did not look happy, but she did not say no. He stepped forward, and took her in his arms as though plucking her from the air. He did not let her down to the floor until their lips had been locked for a few long minutes.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione found the whole situation with Draco to be a lot easier now that they did not have to hide it. Their biggest problem, at that point, was mealtime. Draco was not welcome at the Gryffindor table. While Draco ruled the Slytherins, Hermione was not comfortable sitting among them. As a result, they could not eat meals together in the Great Hall. Sometimes they would purposely do their work as Head Boy and Girl during meals, so they could have the food brought to their dorm.  
  
Classes were different. Once everyone knew, they started sitting together, working together, choosing each other for partners. They held hands in the halls, stealing kisses in plain view of the entire student body. They saw no reason to hide their relationship, just as Harry and Ron stopped waiting until they were alone when everyone found out about them.   
  
One day, when they were waiting outside Snape's classroom, Pansy Parkinson decided to test them. "Wow, Draco, I never would have expected you, of all people, to take up with a Mudblood. You're just using her for her brains, aren't you?"   
  
Draco's face became suddenly expressionless. Hermione was afraid he might actually kill Pansy. He stepped up to her. "First," he said quietly, menacingly, "The only reason I love Hermione's intelligence is that it makes her superior to people like you. I love her caring, her compassion, her hardships and heartaches, everything about her. And second, if you ever call her that again, I will not be responsible for my actions."   
  
Pansy whimpered involuntarily. Hermione was staring at Draco in wonder, loving him more every moment. She pulled him closer to her, and he entwined his fingers in hers. They filed into the classroom behind the rest and sat down at the only empty table.   
  
"You will be reading today, from the copies on your tables. You will not be doing anything but learning the theory of these potions. Start now, and don't talk."   
  
Under the gist of taking notes on the potion, Hermione wrote to Draco, ~*Thank you.*~   
  
He looked at it for a minute before responding. ~* I would not have let anyone talk about you like that, especially Parkinson.   
  
H: Well, I still get to thank you, don't I? It was a very sweet thing to do.  
  
D: You're welcome.   
  
H: All right, now pay attention.  
  
D: Me? You're the one who started this note.  
  
H: You're the one who's continuing it.  
  
D: I can't believe we are now proving my point again.  
  
H: Which one?  
  
D: The argument one.   
  
H: Oh, that. No, this is completely different.  
  
D: How? If Snape catches us, he'll read it aloud to the class?  
  
H: He wouldn't do that to *you*, his star pupil.  
  
D: You're the star pupil, he just won't admit it because you're in Gryffindor.  
  
H: He just looked this way. We had better get to work.*~  
  
Hermione was very intrigued by the potion they read about. She would have to do more research on it.   
  
End Chapter 30  
  
What *was* that last sentence about? Does anyone know?????   
  
Yes, this chapter was short, and there is not much to comment on, but please review anyway. I have needs to be met. If I don't get my daily fix of reviews I might *die*. And then you would never know how the story turns out.   
  
Also, if you review you get apple-kiwi-strawberry confetti!! …because that's the flavor of the juice I'm drinking right now. 


	32. The Visitor

Chapter 31- The Visitor  
  
Harry thought about the last Defense lesson on his way to Professor Lyipin's office.   
  
"Of course, they were considering making Cruciatus an Unforgivable when they first discovered it, due to its torturous nature. However, they did not actually decide on it until as late as the mid seventeenth century. Does anyone know why they finally made Cruciatus an Unforgivable?"   
  
Predictably, Hermione's hand went up. Lyipin pointed to her. When she spoke, she sounded exactly like a textbook.   
  
"The Cruciatus Curse was named Unforgivable because people confessed to crimes they never committed while placed under this curse. They were given the Dementor's Kiss, and then later evidence was found that they were innocent."   
  
"Exactly. When they found out that they had condemned innocent people to a fate worse than death, they immediately discontinued the use of Cruciatus for forced confession. They discovered Veritaserum shortly afterward, and the problem was solved."   
  
Harry had been shocked to find out that the curse was used by the magical government on suspects.   
  
"That, and it is Dark magic."   
  
Harry knocked on the professor's door twice before entering.   
  
"Ah, Harry. Right on time. Today you will be working on Stealth. We will continue this until I find you to be proficient…"   
  
*Damn stealth. If I didn't know better, I would think they were trying to get rid of me.* Harry had just tripped over another root. They really needed to fix the whole visibility debacle in the Forbidden Forest.   
  
"It's forbidden for a bloody reason," Harry muttered, brushing himself off. "If I'm not found by the centaurs, some Death Eater will show up and whisk me off to Voldemort. Bloody wonderful."   
  
He sobered when the leaves rustling overhead startled him. *Right, stealth. Well, it would probably help if I didn't trip over things.* He focused his attention on the ground.   
  
Hooves. Were those hooves? *They're hooves. Oh, no. The centaurs. Maybe I can hide somewhere.*   
  
It was too late. They were in the process of surrounding him before he could finish the thought. He looked in all directions, but being backed up against the tree, saw no possible escape.   
  
"What are you doing in our forest?" one of them, whom Harry recognized as Ronan, asked.   
  
Harry decided to tell the truth. "Auror training."   
  
"If you were in Auror training, you would not be at this school."   
  
"Professor Dumbledore wants me to complete my first year of Auror training now, for some reason."   
  
Ronan snorted. "I do not care what Dumbledore wants. We have been betrayed, and we will not tolerate humans."   
  
"Ronan, be sensible. He's barely out of foalhood. He is in here by no doing of his own."   
  
*You've got that right,* Harry answered silently. *If it were my choice, I'd probably be in my bedroom right now.*   
  
"None of this matters. We will teach Dumbledore to send his young spies into our territory. The rope, please, Magorian."   
  
Harry panicked. He did not know what they planned to do, and he did not want to. He was attacked by a very unpleasant image of himself, hanging from a tree branch by his neck. Not waiting to see if this would turn out to be a premonition, Harry whipped around the tree and sprinted away.   
  
He figured that while he was running, he might as well continue practicing stealth. He was careful to step on the softest part of the ground, lightly but swiftly, to minimize his noise. He watched all parts of the forest at once, careful to avoid anything that could cause him trouble.   
  
Surprisingly enough, his efforts actually paid off. He heard the voices of centaurs, calling to each other to look in this or that direction. Clearly, he could only succeed in stealth when his life was in danger.   
  
Harry began to tire. He had been running for over an hour, intent more on avoiding doom than reaching the edge of the forest. He realized that maybe, just maybe, he had been running deeper into the forest. He was running out of breath. He slowed to a walk, inhaling as deeply as he dared.   
  
"Harry," he heard. He was not sure where the voice came from. He did not respond.   
  
"The tree to your right with the black leaves."   
  
Harry looked. Sure enough, to his right was a tree with black leaves. He had never seen this type of tree before, and wondered what it was. Cautiously he crept closer.   
  
The tree, exasperated, said, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, get over here, Harry." It grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in.   
  
Harry did not have time to struggle before he saw the face of Sirius looking into his. "Sh," Sirius said. "Don't move. They'll pass this way soon. They'll see you as a tree, and then I can bring you back out of the forest."   
  
The centaurs, conversing quietly about what they should do to him (hearing this, Harry was earnestly glad they had not caught him), passed by them without a second glance. Sirius let go his shoulders.   
  
"Sirius, what are you doing here? Aren't you dead? Oh, I've asked you that before, haven't I? How did you turn into a tree?"   
  
"I was looking for you, actually. What are *you* doing out here?"   
  
"Auror training," Harry said again. He rolled his eyes. He had not gone a day without being asked the same question twice for at least a month.   
  
"I won't ask. Anyway, do you doubt my ability as a wizard? What fully-fledged wizard would *not* be able to turn himself into a tree?"   
  
"Sirius…"   
  
"What?"   
  
"How are you really, in life status? Tell me. I'm still confused. You never really answered that you were not dead, but you keep hinting that you aren't."   
  
Sirius smiled at him. Harry saw that he looked much better than he used to. His hair was shorter and his face had filled out, no longer emaciated. "I thought you would be asking that. I'm afraid that is a very complicated question. It is hard to explain. I am here, but I am not here."   
  
He passed his hand through a tree. "See? I am able to appear to you because of our connection, and partly because you have that mirror I gave you. I spelled it, to let us communicate no matter where we are. I cannot, however, appear to you in the mirror, but *through* the mirror."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Here. I'll try to show you." Sirius removed a small mirror from his pocket. It was quite odd. It did not reflect the forest, but rather showed what Sirius was seeing. Harry was looking directly at it, but he saw only trees and not his own reflection.   
  
"I have to appear to you *as* the mirror. That is all I am right now."   
  
"Whoa. That is quite something to spring on me after I was just threatened by a group of centaurs."   
  
"Well, you did ask."   
  
"So, you were looking for me?"   
  
"Yes. I wanted to tell you what has been going on. I assume you have heard about the killings."   
  
"No, I haven't. What killings?"   
  
"You've been quite left out of the loop. Muggles have been dying all over Britain of unexplained causes. Just last weekend a whole entire family, including newborn twins, was added to the list. Another Muggle was killed recently. His wife is a witch. Thomas Finnigan, maybe you know who I mean?"   
  
Harry stared straight ahead. "Seamus's dad…is dead? What about his mum? Was she…?"   
  
"Well, she was not killed, but she is now at Mungo's. She was brushed with the Killing Curse, and is now in a coma."   
  
"Merlin." Harry knew that somehow, this had to be his fault. "How do you find out these things? When did it happen?"   
  
"An hour ago, and how I found out would take much too long to explain. I told you, where I exist right now, time is not a familiar concept."   
  
They were silent for the next few minutes. Harry turned to face his godfather as they reached the edge of the trees. "You know what this means, don't you?" Sirius asked.   
  
"Yes," Harry said hoarsely.   
  
"It means that the time is approaching when you will have to face Voldemort again. You will have help, but you will have to do most of it yourself…you know what is in your future when ultimately one of you is defeated. I know it will not be you, Harry. It can't be."   
  
"Then I have to-" Harry stopped himself. Killing someone, even someone that evil, was beyond his comprehension.   
  
"I have to go now, Harry. Remember, be strong. You have to, for the entire world, and not just the magical one. But also remember that you have friends to support you. You do not have to do it all alone."   
  
When Harry next looked at the spot where Sirius had been, the man was gone.   
  
Setting his features firmly, he stalked in the direction of the castle, wondering whom he should tell first: Dumbledore or Seamus. He decided on the former. He would know how to handle the situation, and Seamus would be less inclined to question Dumbledore than Harry.   
  
With a grave expression, Dumbledore regarded Harry from over his long, folded fingers. "You are sure of this information?"   
  
"Yes," Harry replied. "Sirius told me."   
  
"What?" Seamus rasped. "My dad's dead, mum's in the hospital? How did this happen? What am I going to do now?"   
  
"You will be excused from school to visit your mother," Dumbledore told the hysterical seventh year. "Not for a few days, of course, when Mungo's informs you. We do not want the sources of our information getting out to the general public. And I assume that your father will have a funeral that you would attend. You will be excused from classes for this, as well. Know that you will be expected to make up the work."   
  
Ashen-faced, Seamus nodded. He glanced at Harry for the eleventh time that quarter of an hour. Harry had been counting. "I suppose I have you to thank for this," he said sullenly.  
  
"What?" Harry asked. Was Seamus accusing him of being at fault for his parents' fates?   
  
"For knowing about them so soon. Thanks. I wouldn't have wanted to find out from anyone other than Dumbledore, and I know if it took longer, the entire school would know before me."   
  
"Oh. You're welcome."   
  
Underneath it all, Harry knew it was his fault. He was the one who had allowed Voldemort to rise from his metaphorical grave. If he had not let himself be caught that day, in his fourth year, everyone would be safe. No, if he had not stopped Sirius and Remus from killing Wormtail. That was where his biggest mistake lay.   
  
Why couldn't he just have *killed* Voldemort as a child, instead of leaving him without a body? Why did he have to make everything so complicated for himself?  
  
"Harry." He was jerked from his thoughts by Dumbledore's voice. "You can go now."   
  
"Oh, right." Harry left, silent thereafter, and he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He almost entered Ron's room immediately, but thought better of it, and headed to the bathroom. He thought he might be sick.   
  
It turned out, he was.   
  
End Chapter 31  
  
I hope you all were shocked senseless. Really.   
  
Mednar, I believe the word you were looking for was ego*tistical*. :)   
  
Review! This second!! Now. Please? Okay, fine. I'll give you some of this miniature wand confetti. They really work, but only once, so choose your spells wisely. :P 


	33. Awakening and Pet Names

Chapter 32- Awakening and Pet Names  
  
"I'm worried about Seamus."   
  
Hermione looked up from her book to find that Ginny had just sat at her table. "Ginny, can't you see I'm in the library?"   
  
Ginny crossed her arms. "No. I had not noticed," she said sarcastically.   
  
Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "What I mean is, I'm studying for N.E.W.T.s. Why are you telling me this, anyway?"   
  
"Because you're, like, my best friend. Or one of them. We miss you, you know."   
  
"What?"   
  
Ginny's large brown eyes were sad. "We miss you. Harry and Ron and I. We never see you anymore, it's like you're not even in Gryffindor. Being with Malfoy does not mean you can't be friends with us."   
  
"For Ron it does," Hermione muttered. Seeing Ginny's surprised look, she continued. "He can't get over the fact that I'm with Draco. He hasn't been the same around me since he found out about us."   
  
"He feels betrayed. I know it's not true, but that's what he thinks. He can't help the way he is, you know that. He'll understand someday."   
  
"He'd understand if he let me explain, but he *never* lets me talk about Draco. I don't want someday to be ten years after we graduate. I want someday to be soon."   
  
Ginny sighed. "I know you do. I do too, and I wish he wasn't being so pigheaded, but it can only be expected. I'm sorry I don't have any useful advice for you."   
  
"It's all right." Hermione smiled. "So, why are you worried about Seamus?"   
  
"I think he's depressed. He's stopped doing his homework, and he hardly eats. He's missed the last two Quidditch practices. Harry did an Oliver and went ballistic on him. We had to remind him that we're only playing Hufflepuff next-"   
  
"Hey!" a Hufflepuff team member said from two tables over.   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense," Ginny said. The Hufflepuff sniffed and turned back to her books. "Anyway, we managed to calm Harry down, but that's not the point. Seamus lost his parents, and he's taking it pretty hard. I think someone should talk to him, because he won't talk to me."   
  
"Do you think it would help if his mother woke up?" Hermione asked.   
  
"Of course it would, but I don't see how we can make *that* happen." Ginny pouted.   
  
"Maybe we can," Hermione said slowly. She tapped her chin. Abruptly, she stood, pushing her chair back, and walked quickly to a shelf.  
  
"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ginny stood to look over Hermione's shoulder.   
  
"There." Hermione pointed. "This spell. If it's adjusted, then it should work as a counter curse to attempted Avada Kedavra."   
  
Ginny stared at the spell. "It should work," she said slowly, "but how will we get to the hospital?"   
  
Hermione was thinking along the same lines. "I think we should take it to Dumbledore. He'll be able to go to Mungo's and perform the spell. It should not take more than a day, with Dumbledore doing it. He can spare that time with no negative consequences."   
  
"Hermione, I don't know-"   
  
"Look, it's been what, three weeks? If Seamus keeps on like you said, he won't last the term. Plus, Christmas is coming up shortly. It would be nice for him to be able to go home to his mother."   
  
"Well…if it really will work…but he should not be told until it does."   
  
"I agree. If it does not work, it will have a terrible effect on him."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione could be seen from high above as she stepped onto the pitch. Harry flew down to meet her. "Hey, what's up?"   
  
"I need to talk to Ginny," she said. Harry sighed in exasperation. This was the second time the practice had been interrupted. The first time it had been Seamus nearly falling off his broom. Harry nodded, and he left to send Ginny down.   
  
"What's going on?" Ron asked. "Where's her *boyfriend*?"   
  
"I don't know, Ron, and I don't know. You should be a little more respectful to Hermione if you ever want to be friends again."   
  
"We *are* friends, Harry. I don't know what you're talking about."   
  
Ron was in denial about his relationship with his former best friend. Harry sighed. "Okay, we'll have to continue without Ginny for now." She and Hermione had just left the pitch, presumably to talk more privately. "Ron, get back to the hoops. Dennis, I'll have those golf balls out for you in five minutes."   
  
Five minutes later, Harry was throwing golf balls in all directions for the reserve Seeker to catch. Harry had to admit he wasn't too bad. Ten minutes later, Ginny came bursting out of the locker room, followed by Hermione. The latter looked as though she was still talking, but Ginny was not listening.   
  
She flew over to the Gryffindor stands, where Seamus was lying, holding his head. "Seamus, get up! Your mother's awake!"   
  
"GINNY!" All of them heard from below. Hermione was waving the girl back down, but Ginny had to answer all of Seamus's questions.   
  
"Yes, Dumbledore performed a spell on her a week ago. No, we were just waiting in the locker room to see if she would wake up. No, Dumbledore didn't tell us, I suppose he was busy. A house elf brought us a note from him-"   
  
"Bet Hermione loved that," Harry said quietly, earning a snicker from Ron.   
  
"I think Dumbledore will let you go to see her as soon as you could possibly be allowed- maybe even today-"   
  
Seamus was gone before she had finished. He was running toward the locker room, he passed Hermione with a grin. Wanting to know the details, the rest of the team alighted on the ground.   
  
"What's wrong with you, Hermione? It's good news."   
  
Ginny obviously did not know as much as Hermione did. Hermione had a sorrowful look on her face.   
  
"Mrs. Finnigan's mind was affected by the spell. Not the one that brought her back, it wouldn't do that. She can't remember her husband, and she thinks Seamus is dead."   
  
Ginny, and the rest of them as well, stared at her as though she had a head growing out of her back. "It was supposed to be all right," Ginny said quietly. Tears were forming in her eyes. Ron, in his caring-big-brother kind of way, went and gave her a comforting hug.   
  
"It will be all right, Gin. Soon, it will be all right. Dumbledore will be able to fix this. Or someone will."   
  
Under the circumstances, Harry ended the practice early. No one could keep their mind on Quidditch, anyway. But Harry himself needed Quidditch to take his mind *off* things. He released the Snitch, letting it disappear before rising in to the air to hunt for it.   
  
When finally it was too dark to see straight, Harry caught the Snitch one last time and took it inside with him. He was met with the sight of a confronting Seamus, and a confronted Ginny.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me the rest, Ginny? Why did you let me think she was better?"   
  
"I didn't know, Seamus, honestly!" Ginny cried desperately. "At least she's awake now! Seamus, please calm down."   
  
"I would rather my mother *had* died than live like this. I can't even see her."   
  
"Hey!" Harry said. He could not stand to watch anymore. Ginny had backed fearfully against a wall. He had not seen her like this since…probably his second year- her first. Five years ago. "Don't blame Ginny for this. Don't you even *think* about blaming Ginny."  
  
"Harry- no," Ginny breathed, shaking her head. "I can do this myself- stay out of it."   
  
"You know what, Harry? You're always trying to interfere in everyone's business. I'm not going to give you the chance anymore. I quit."   
  
"What?!" Harry and Ginny burst out simultaneously.   
  
"That's right. I don't want to be on your team anymore." He threw his broom down and stalked out, fuming.   
  
Ginny turned to Harry, her eyes large and wet. "How could anyone mistreat a broom like that?" she whispered, and ran out.   
  
Harry wished he could comfort her, but he was too stunned by what had happened. *This* was the true goal of Voldemort's killings. Friends fighting. Division among the same side.   
  
This was what Voldemort wanted, because how could they fight him if they were too busy fighting each other?   
  
"Seamus, damn you. Can't you see Ginny's in love with you?" Harry hit his head against the wall- a little harder than he meant to. He put a hand up to the back of his head, rubbing the sore spot gently.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Hermione, we need to talk."   
  
"Yes, Draco?"   
  
"I just heard something rather- disturbing."   
  
From her face, she did not have any clue what he was about to tell her. Making a face, he proceeded. "You know that name you came up with for me?"   
  
"Pinecone-muffin?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Sugar-baby?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Angelcake?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Googly-bear?"  
  
"That's the one." Draco grimaced again. "You haven't been… telling people about that name, have you?"   
  
Hermione blushed, not meeting his eyes. "I may have let it slip to Ginny when Parvati was within earshot…"   
  
"Great move, Hermione. Now everyone's going to be laughing at me *all* the time. I don't want that name anymore."   
  
"Oh, but honey, it's *so* cute! Please."   
  
Damn. She was so…how could he put this…sexy when she begged. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I'll tell everyone I call you 'sweet cheeks'."   
  
"So? I like that name. It's amusing."   
  
"I'll tell them I don't mean the ones on your face."   
  
"What- Draco!! You can't! You wouldn't know, anyway."   
  
He would if he had his way, but he did not want to tell her that. Obviously she would not appreciate a comment like that. "Well, do you *have* to tell everyone the embarrassing names you come up with for me? Or, a better question, do you have to tell *anyone*?"   
  
Hermione giggled. "I suppose not. As long as you'll let me call you Snoogy-Woogy Wips in private."   
  
Draco almost gagged. "Where did you come up with that?"   
  
She grinned. "I didn't. My mother did. In some letter or other, when she was mocking Dad's pet names for her."   
  
"I don't think so."   
  
"I'm sure they'd all be interested to know about that *other* name. You know the one-"  
  
"Yes! Don't say it. Fine, call me what ever you want, just don't tell people."   
  
A few minutes later, Draco cursed silently. Was she going to win *every* argument?  
  
End Chapter 32  
  
I am crushed under the weight of more than 200 reviews!!!!!!   
  
At least one person was confused about this…the spell I meant was *Cruciatus*. The spell I wrote was *cruciatus*. People were tortured into confessing…I took it from something we were talking about in school. Get it?   
  
Ah, the whole Sirius in the mirror thing…it doesn't come up again, so I'll have to explain in an author's note. Blah. Simply put, Sirius is a reflection. So he's somewhat insubstantial, but he's also *magical*…so he can do stuff. It's hard to explain. Even I am not sure what I mean.   
  
Review for googly-bare confetti! 


	34. Once a Witch

Chapter 33- Once a Witch  
  
"No use. She's just ignoring us. We'll have to get Ginny to ask her," Ron said grumpily. Harry said nothing. He knew that *Ron* was probably the reason Hermione was avoiding them. "If she'll even come."   
  
"She will, Ron. At least for part of the vacation. You know how much Hermione loves the Burrow."  
  
Harry suddenly heard a frantic knocking. "What is that?" he asked.   
  
"I don't know. I think it's coming from…the front doors."   
  
They turned. Indeed, that is where the rapid, repeating knocks sounded. Bewildered, Harry and Ron looked at each other, then back at the door, then back at each other.   
  
"Has anyone *ever* knocked before?" Ron asked.   
  
"Not that I know of," Harry replied. "Who could it be?"   
  
"No! It's- it's *HIM*!"   
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Voldemort wouldn't knock, and his followers wouldn't, either."   
  
"Well, why haven't you gone to open the door yet, Harry?"   
  
"Because I don't know who it is!"   
  
"There's only one way to find out."   
  
Ron, slightly shakily, walked to the huge front doors, and he slowly pulled the left one open. "Hello," a woman's voice said as Ron gaped at the damp person standing just outside- damp because it was raining. "Is Professor Dumbledore here?"   
  
Ron turned incredulously to motion Harry over. Harry took a few steps, and then stopped short in surprise. The woman was tall and very thin, with a long neck, and she carried a suitcase with her. *I thought her voice sounded familiar.*   
  
"Oh, hello Harry. How are you?" Aunt Petunia asked nervously.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry paced restlessly in front of the fire. Periodically he would realize that he was biting his nails, and his hand would drop to his side, only to rise again a moment later. He knew Ron followed him with his eyes, but he tried to ignore the presence of his boyfriend as he thought.   
  
"Do you have any idea why she's here?" Ron asked again.   
  
"NO! That's why I keep asking you," Harry answered angrily. "Damn it, what's taking so bloody long? How much could my mother's magic-hating sister have to talk about with Dumbledore!"   
  
"Harry, calm down. They'll be done soon, and then they'll tell you what's going on. And you'll tell *me* what's going on, and then everyone will know."   
  
Harry shook his head and quickened his pacing. "Will you stop that? You're making me dizzy," Ron requested.   
  
Sighing, Harry flopped beside him, making the cushion bounce. Ron put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. Harry took Ron's hand in his and kept it there, contenting himself that at least *one* thing in his life made sense.   
  
"Mister Potter." Harry looked up to find Professor McGonagall standing over them, and sat up straight. "Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you."   
  
Harry rose eagerly. "See you later, Ron." He followed her to the Headmaster's office, where she gave him the password- which, to Harry's surprise, had nothing to do with candy- and left him.   
  
"Ah yes, Harry. Now, Petunia, it is time."   
  
"Professor- please- I'm not ready."   
  
"There is no time like the present. If you're not ready now, Petunia, you never will be. It is time he knew what really happened."   
  
"What are you two talking about?"   
  
"You're about to find out, Harry. Sit."   
  
He lowered himself into the indicated puffy armchair. It faced his aunt's chair, which was very similar to his own, and engulfed the seemingly shrunken woman sitting on it. Harry had never seen Petunia this way. She was meek and unwilling to talk, but she did as Dumbledore ordered.   
  
"I want to apologize first, Harry, for the way we've treated you for so long. It is my fault mostly, because I could have changed it. I could have given you a better home, and now I am sorry I didn't. The only reason I acted that way was because you are part of a life that I have been trying to put behind me."   
  
"The life where you hated my mother?" Harry sneered.   
  
"Harry, your aunt is trying to tell you something. Do not interrupt."   
  
"Sorry, Professor." Harry looked at the floor.   
  
"Continue, Petunia."   
  
Aunt Petunia nodded. She swallowed and resumed her story. "Lily was not the first witch in our family, Harry. I was."  
  
Harry's jaw dropped, but he was too shocked to interrupt this time.   
  
"I got my Hogwarts letter, and I was ecstatic. I had always thought that magic really existed, and I was just thrilled to be a part of that world. It did not last long, though. I was only able to go to school through my third year- which was Lily's first. They…they broke my wand, for my own safety they said. I kept it- I couldn't bare not to have it anymore."   
  
"I became…bitter. I was jealous of Lily, because she did so well in school, and because she was able to live in the magical world. I wanted so much to *be* her during those years. That was why I always was so mean to her."   
  
"When I met Vernon…I would never have liked him, if I was still a witch. He represented the complete opposite of the magical world. If I was a witch then, I would have hated him, but his opposition to everything I wanted was what drew me to him. I couldn't be part of the world I loved, and I resented it. I wanted to separate myself as much as I could. Vernon was the means."   
  
"You see, Harry, all those years I pretended to hate the magical world, because I wanted to stay with Vernon, and I was jealous of all the people who were allowed to be a part of it. I pretended to hate *you*, because I knew how I was supposed to act."   
  
Harry took a few minutes to let this sink in. "Okay. I can buy that, I could believe it. It certainly does *explain* things…but then, why are you here now? You just suddenly decided to reconcile our relationship, or what?"   
  
"No." Aunt Petunia shook her head. She looked as though she would cry if she were not so numb. "It happened just two nights ago…"   
  
~* She was chopping cucumbers for the salad, watching the chicken which was boiling on the stove, and guarding the refrigerator from Dudley. Through dieting and exercise, he had become healthier, but he still would raid the kitchen at any opportunity.   
  
"Petunia," Vernon said gruffly as he entered. She was too busy to turn around.   
  
"Yes, Vernon?"   
  
"What is this?"   
  
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "What is what?"   
  
He had come up behind her, and he held the item up before her. "This."   
  
The knife slipped and cut her finger. "Damn," she said, going to the sink. "I don't know, Vernon, it looks like broken wood to me."   
  
"I found it in *your* bedside stand drawer."   
  
"What were you doing in there?"   
  
"Petunia, tell me this is not a … a you know what."   
  
"No, I *don't* know, Vernon, please elaborate."   
  
"A *WAND*!"   
  
Petunia was silent. She stared at the wall. It was past, why did he have to bring it up now? She had not done anything to deserve this disruption in her life. But then, had she deserved her nephew on her doorstep sixteen years ago? She had not thought so then… and she did not think so now, though for different reasons. She put her hands to her temples. "Yes, it is."   
  
She looked at her husband, who was fuming as he slowly turned purple. "Out," he said simply.   
  
"What?" She had heard this once before. Two years and a few months ago, when Harry and Dudley had come home that night, and they thought Dudley had been mentally affected. That was the night she had received the Howler from Dumbledore. As much as she was frightened, she was secretly delighted by the Howler. She knew it meant that Dumbledore was recognizing her as a witch again.   
  
"You heard me. I will NOT have magic IN MY HOUSE!! GET OUT!!!"   
  
She stared heatedly at him for a moment, then she let out her breath slowly. "Fine. Fine. I'm going. But you'll regret this. I am certain you will."   
  
She meant only to state a fact, but her husband clearly took it as a threat. He backed up against the wall, and he watched warily as she stormed up to their room to pack her things.   
  
When she came back down the stairs, acrid blue smoke was rising from the fireplace. Her eyes widening, she hurried to the fireplace, where Vernon stood grinning. "You can't do anything to me without your wand, can you?"   
  
Shaking her head, she dragged her luggage to the door. *Idiot,* she thought to herself to keep from crying. *I couldn't use the wand anyway, it was broken.*   
  
As she had only done once before in her life, she jumped out of the way as a purple triple-decker bus almost ran her over. When the conductor asked her where she wanted to go, she hesitated. She knew what she was leaving, but she had no idea where to go from there. "Could you just take me to Hogwarts?" *~   
  
"…and that's how I ended up here," Petunia finished.   
  
"Well," Harry said slowly. "I get that part as well. Just one thing. Why did you have to leave after third year?"   
  
Petunia glanced hesitantly at Dumbledore. "Well…I am not permitted to disclose that information."   
  
Dumbledore nodded. "That's right. It is a very secret matter, and until it is fully resolved, we prefer not to let people know. Now, don't say another thing about it, Harry. You will know as soon as we are able to tell you."   
  
"Now that's out of the way, I guess I'll be leaving-"   
  
"No you won't," Harry said quickly. He did not know where it came from. He found, when he examined his reaction, that he sympathized with his aunt. He had no idea what he would do if he were cut off from the wizarding world. Also, she was apologizing to him, for *everything*. That was big.   
  
"What, excuse me, Harry?" Petunia said, holding a hand to her ear. She apparently did not think she heard right. Harry smiled slightly.   
  
"There are millions of spare rooms here, right? Why don't you stay here? You don't have anywhere else to go."   
  
"I don't know about millions," Dumbledore refuted, eyes twinkling, "but your nephew is right. You don't have anywhere to go, and we have plenty of room. We have places you could stay that would keep you hidden from the entire school, if you wish."   
  
Petunia smiled in relief. "Well, thank you, Professor Dumbledore. And you as well, Harry."   
  
"You can go now, Harry. Your aunt and I have a few things to sort out before she is settled in."   
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. He stood, continuing to soak up all he had found out during the past hour. He turned at the door. "One other thing, Aunt Petunia. You're still a part of the magical world. Once a witch, always a witch."   
  
End Chapter 33  
  
Please review for confetti. Apologize for the lack of end note. 


	35. Formerly Petunia Dursley

Chapter 34- Formerly Petunia Dursley  
  
"I could be playing Quidditch right now, but what am I doing? I'm on my way to *class*," Harry muttered to himself in exasperation. Professor Lyipin had scheduled his class for Saturday, *all day*. Harry had wanted badly to protest when the DADA teacher sought him out a few days before.   
  
He peered out the window as he passed, and cursed silently. The sky was a crystal blue, with enough clouds that the sun was not intensely blinding. Without clouds it would have been, reflecting off the pristine snow. It was a perfect Quidditch day, and while it was quite cold, it was warm for December.   
  
Daydreaming of being up in the air on his Firebolt, he passed Lyipin's office without realizing it. Sighing, muttering, he retraced his steps and entered the correct room.   
  
"Oh, hello, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, surprised. He had not known he would see her there.   
  
"Penny, please, Harry. Penny was my nickname. I like it better than 'Petunia', anyway."   
  
"Okay, Aunt Penny." Harry himself liked it better. "Professor, what am I doing today?"   
  
"Ah, yes. Your assignment, Harry, is to accompany your aunt to Diagon Alley, where she will be shopping for a wand. Instructions from Dumbledore himself. 'Go first to Gringotts, exchange Muggle money. Then to Ollivander's for Ms. Evan's wand. You will be picked up in front of the Leaky Cauldron at three o'clock in the afternoon. If you do not recognize the wizard who says they are there for you, *do not go with them*.' And that's it. So, go to it, Harry."   
  
Harry cleared his throat. Now they were using his classes to make him into a personal escort. "Um…how are we supposed to get there?"   
  
"Any way you can, Harry," Professor Lyipin shrugged.   
  
"Um…ok…" He walked to the fireplace. It seemed the safest way. "Have you ever used Floo powder, Aunt Penny?"   
  
"Well, yes, but it was a long, long time ago."   
  
"Well, just make sure your eyes and mouth are closed tightly, otherwise you'll be coughing for a month. Keep your elbows tucked to your sides, and speak very clearly. Watch me." Taking a deep breath, Harry took a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the professor's empty fireplace. "Diagon Alley!" he declared, and threw down the green dust.   
  
At once he experienced a whirling, spinning, falling sensation. Ashes flew up his nose- at least, he hoped it was nothing worse. He emerged coughing and sputtering, but at least this time he had managed to get the location right.   
  
It had occurred to him only seconds ago that he had never seen Diagon Alley by winter. Awnings and sidewalks were trimmed in snow, and many of the stores had put up cheerful Christmas decorations. *I wonder when Hermione and Dra- Malfoy are going to do the decorations at Hogwarts.*   
  
Diagon Alley by winter was, to put it in a word, wonderful. He felt refreshed just standing in the middle of the street.   
  
Aunt Penny came behind him, and in another minute they were on their way to Gringotts. Harry made the exchange for her, being more acquainted with the workings of wizard money, and its keepers.   
  
"Now we've got to go to Ollivander's. Oh, I remember my first wand. I can't believe I'm finally going to have another!! This is so exciting." She sounded much like a first year getting her *first* wand.   
  
The tiny, rusty bell rang as they entered the wand shop. It was silent, as usual, dusty, and apparently empty. Apparently, until Mr. Ollivander emerged from the back room. He stopped short upon seeing them.   
  
"Evans? Petunia Evans, is that you?"   
  
Aunt Penny smiled. "Yes, sir. I'm here for a wand. Dumbledore sent me."   
  
He smiled. "I never expected to see you in here again. I hear you have been living as a Muggle, one of those magic-hating ones."   
  
"It was all a façade, Mr. Ollivander. I'm a witch at heart, still. Always."   
  
"Of course, of course. And Harry Potter. I suppose you haven't lost *your* wand as well."   
  
"Of course not, sir." Harry was almost insulted at the suggestion that he would lose his wand, but he kept his voice smooth.   
  
"Right. Very good. Well then, Ms. Evans, come this way, and I'll take your measurements. I remember…twelve and a quarter inches, poplar, water sprite hair. Delicate and temperamental." He tapped his chin as the magic tape measures stretched themselves along her arms.   
  
Disappearing among the shelves, he returned with a stack of boxes. Harry thought there were about fifty. *This is going to be a long day.*   
  
They had gone through the entire stack and still had not found her match. Harry grew steadily hungrier and more restless.   
  
"Patience, Mister Potter. Remember how long it took to find *your* wand," Ollivander said briskly. Harry fidgeted less after this, noting every wand his aunt tried before letting it slip from his mind.   
  
Approximately two hours later, Penny had her wand. Dryad hair and apple wood, ten inches. They left the store, Harry relieved and his aunt ecstatic.   
  
"It's almost three now," Harry said, having checked some clock or other. "We should get going."   
  
Three steps later, they were halted by a familiar voice. "Penny Evans!" Turning, Harry found that Amos Diggory was striding purposefully toward them…or rather toward his aunt. He did not even seem to notice Harry.   
  
"Amos?" Penny breathed incredulously. "Oh my god!"   
  
"Penny, is that really you? I can hardly believe it! It's been ages since…Potter," he said, finally noticing Penny's younger companion.   
  
"Mr. Diggory," Harry said politely.   
  
"Oh, you two know each other?" Penny asked innocently. At that moment, Harry hated the fact that she did not know what had been going on in the wizarding world.   
  
"Yes, sort of," he said awkwardly.   
  
"Amos was a year ahead of me in school. He kept asking me to go out with him, but I wasn't ready to date then. By the time I was…ahem. We really should go, you're right. It was nice to see you again, Amos. Keep in touch."   
  
"I will," he replied, smiling.   
  
Out of earshot, Penny leaned toward Harry. "What was that about?"   
  
"I'll tell you later." Harry shook his head. He was not about to go into the story of Cedric's death in the middle of Diagon Alley. "It's a long story."   
  
"My, my," Penny murmured. They had just entered the Leaky Cauldron through the back. "Amos Diggory. It's been so long…since I saw these people. So long. I wish…but that won't do any good. Do they have any strong drinks here?"   
  
"Not now, Aunt Penny. You can drink heavily some other time. We have to *go*."   
  
Harry took his aunt by the arm and dragged her out of the pub. He saw no one he recognized outside, so they leaned against the wall to wait.   
  
"Harry!" A woman's voice called out. She waved.   
  
*Who is that?* he wondered. He did not think he had ever seen her before. Remembering Dumbledore's warning, he prepared to go back to the Leaky Cauldron…but he took a closer look to be sure.   
  
The woman approaching him had shoulder length hair, which was a shade of blue approaching green- an odd color for hair, he thought. She had a small, straight nose, a heart shaped mouth, and ocean-blue eyes. She did not look familiar, but…  
  
"Tonks?" Harry said cautiously.   
  
"Yeah, who did you think it was, Harry? A Death Eater?"   
  
He smiled embarrassedly as she gave him quick hug. "I don't know. It's hard to know what to expect these days…you know about…everything, right?"   
  
Tonks glanced to Penny. "Yes, I was informed. Come on, you two. I've got to get you back to Hogwarts."   
  
"Tonks…where are we going? How are we getting back?" Harry asked as he followed her around the corner.   
  
"Ever heard of a Portkey, Harry?" she teased. From an inside coat pocket she produced an oversized earring. "Ready?" Harry and Aunt Penny touched the earring, and within seconds Harry felt the familiar tugging behind his navel as they were transported back to the school he called home.   
  
The room was empty from where Harry stood. They were in Professor Lyipin's office, facing the door. "Well done, Harry!"   
  
He jumped, then turned to face the teacher sheepishly. "What do you mean? It wasn't a difficult assignment. It was actually rather enjoyable."   
  
"Harry, all you did was watch me buy a wand. It took three hours. I don't think you *really* found it enjoyable. After all, I did witness you almost falling asleep."   
  
Harry found Professor Lyipin's cough to be suspicious. "Your true test today, Harry, was to recognize a friend in disguise."   
  
Harry's head whirled to face Tonks, who smiled and gave him a small wave. "I've got to be going now. Good to see you, Harry." She walked out the door.   
  
"You mean that whole day was just to see if I could recognize Tonks?"   
  
"Well, mostly. But we did need someone to escort Penny to Diagon Alley, and you were the only one who was not busy."   
  
"Not busy? It had to be *this* Saturday? I had a Quidditch practice scheduled, and *I*, the captain, missed it. I'll have to give myself an hour-long lecture now for missing practice. That's wonderful."   
  
"Harry, please. You're not having any classes until the middle of January, I think you shouldn't be complaining."   
  
"I'm not having any practices, either."   
  
"Listen to your teacher, Harry." He turned to face his aunt. "You may be of age, but you are still a student."   
  
"Aunt Penny? I know it's probably none of my business, but why, after all this time…?"   
  
She smiled broadly. "I'm starting my old life again. My new old life as Penny Evans." As Harry learned within the next few minutes, that meant learning the entire curriculum for four years of school over the course of one month.   
  
"When are you going to have time to eat?"   
  
"The house-elves will bring meals to my room. Oh, one of those would have been very useful all those years when I was cooking Herculean meals for Dudley."   
  
"I wanted to ask you about that, Aunt Penny. You just left your son there, and you're never going to see him again?"   
  
"I suppose not," she sighed. "It is all for the best, I suppose. His ideas on magic are the same as Vernon's, and he would have been leaving home in a year or so for university. It's better that I just cut myself off from the Muggle world, living here for a while until I can learn enough to make a living in the magical world."   
  
Harry gave an acquiescent nod. "Sounds fair."   
  
End Chapter 34   
  
Well that's done with now. Ah, once again I have little to say to you in my author's note. I would like to thank you muchlies for the reviews. Very nice.   
  
Review for blue bordering on green confetti! 


	36. Crystals Shine, But They're Not As Notic...

Chapter 35- Crystals Shine, But They're Not As Noticeable As-   
  
*In 235 A.D. the Mongolian Wizard's International Relations Society, or MWIRS, was set up on the border of Chi-*   
  
"Ready, Hermione?" Draco asked. He was decked out in all black clothing, including a warm black cloak.   
  
"For what, honey-bubble?" She did not miss his difficultly restrained eye roll, and grinned. She loved to annoy him with random pet names.   
  
"Tomorrow's the last Hogsmeade date before Christmas, remember? We're going today to get the rest of our decorations."   
  
She resisted the urge to slap her head. "I forgot again. Let me get my cloak and some warmer clothes, I'll be out in a minute." Closing her History of Magic book, she gave Draco a peck on the cheek as she passed him on the way to her room.   
  
She emerged a moment later ready for their outing. "Okay, let's go."   
  
He looked her up and down. "How do you do that with your hair?" While it had hung in thick, smooth ringlets when he had first approached, it now was twisted up into a bun at the back of her head.   
  
"Ginny taught me a spell. Honestly, if you want amazing hair, look at hers. Did you see it, at the beginning of the year? It still looks exactly the same. She really knows how to maintain herself."   
  
"Can we *not* talk about the little Weasley, please?"   
  
"Draco…"   
  
"Okay, I'm sorry. But I'm also serious."   
  
"Fine." She took his hand as they left their common room. Neither of them wore gloves, though they would be walking in the cold in the middle of December. She savored the feel of his soft but firm skin, calloused in certain places from Quidditch.   
  
As Head Boy and Girl, they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade during any of their free time without any chaperone, provided they left a note. Hermione found this to be slightly irresponsible on the faculty's end, but quite advantageous on hers.   
  
Hogsmeade was beautiful when covered in snow- especially when it was not more crowded than the Gryffindor common room during a Quidditch Cup celebration. She and Draco stepped into the Three Broomsticks after making their first stop at Gladrags, where they had picked up their order of silk streamers and ribbons bearing sparkly, ice-blue snowflakes. They ordered butterbeers and sat at a table in the corner.   
  
"I think we've managed some pretty good ideas for our Christmas decorations," Hermione commented, letting her beverage warm her to the toes.   
  
"Yes, but it could never compare to that Halloween." Draco grinned at the memory. "I think next year's Head Boy and Girl will have trouble topping it."   
  
"Well, maybe we should be fighting whenever we have to plan anything," Hermione suggested. "We come up with the best ideas when we're trying not to talk."   
  
"Don't say that, Hermione. I never want to fight with you again." He picked up her hand where it rested on the table and brought it to his lips. She smiled warmly at him. "You're right, though. Those were the *best* ideas. Honestly, I don't know how we managed it. And did you see the looks on everyone's faces when they realized it was us? None of them guessed…Hey, you still have that dress, right?"   
  
"Yes, why?"   
  
"It's sexy."   
  
Hermione blushed. "Come on, Draco," she admonished. "Not in public."   
  
"You call this public? There are three other people in the room."   
  
"Exactly."   
  
He sighed, but he did not mention anything of the sort again. She could tell from his expression that he wanted to. And, whether or not she would say it, she wanted him to as well. She loved the way he complimented her. She felt so special when he said things like that.   
  
"Draco, you remember the first time we met?" He nodded, perplexedly drawing down his eyebrows. "If I had told you then that we would be in love now, what would you have done?"   
  
He snorted. "Probably laughed and made some comment about a Mudblood. I don't know. Even though I've never believed that, when I was younger I was not ready to be myself, for anyone. I was…too afraid, I suppose."   
  
Had Draco Malfoy just admitted that he was afraid? Hermione went over it in her mind. Yes, he had. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't tell anyone."   
  
"Tell anyone what?"   
  
"What you just said." He pulled a trying-to-remember-what-I-just-said-face. After only a few seconds, it changed to an oh-that-now-I-know-what-you're-saying face. He laughed, as though at something he rather pitied in someone…and Hermione knew he was pitying himself, for what he had been.   
  
"I love you, Draco. And I always will."   
  
His gemstone eyes stared into hers. She saw the passion burning within them. "I love you too, Hermione. More than I could ever tell you."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"No, don't put that one there. That spot has to be saved for the second icelain statue."   
  
Draco sighed and moved the vibrant red streamer over a few feet. "That's good," Hermione said. She turned away to take another shruvewip from the box, mounting it on the wall at the corner of a white streamer. The castle, by the end of an hour, would be completely infested with these shimmering, stationary creatures. Hermione had been a bit worried when the order had not been there the previous night, but the shruvewips had arrived just that morning, while they were hanging streamers.   
  
"Can you imagine doing this with *every* student running wild in the corridors? It would be a nightmare," Hermione commented as the icelain sculpture was lifted into place. Icelain was simply porcelain that was covered with a sheen of glittery magical ice. The beings represented looked as though they had once been living, but had frozen. Draco found he rather liked the effect, but not when Hermione talked about them nonstop.   
  
This particular statue was of a baby unicorn with a wreath around its neck. The one they had looked at before was of a classically beautiful woman in a white dress and black cloak, looking over her shoulder at something. She held a bouquet of white roses in her hands.   
  
Draco, not bothering with his wand, lifted another streamer, this one green, wandlessly onto the wall. He almost regretted not listening to Hermione, before remembering that she was not saying anything at that moment that she would not repeat twenty times within the next few days.   
  
"Could you hold this, Draco?" She handed him a shruvewip. He watched as she stood on tiptoe to mount the one she was holding.   
  
"Let me do that, Hermione." He gave her back his shruvewip and took over. "Stop complaining," he said, before she had a chance to speak. "I'm taller, it's easier for me. Besides, we are doing this *together*, and I would help you even if we weren't."   
  
He finished, and turned to her. She was smiling. "Where do you want the other one?" She indicated the spot she had chosen, and he attached the shruvewip swiftly. "There. Let's take a break, just for a minute."   
  
Their break lasted for just that- a minute. Hermione was eager to finish before the rest of the students returned from Hogsmeade. Draco let her order him about as they attached curling icicles and garlands to the banisters, and magicked the decorations onto Hagrid's giant pine trees.   
  
They stood in the middle of the castle, where they could see much of their work. High above their heads, they could just barely make out the twinkling of statues, shruvewips, and tiny snowflakes on streamers.   
  
"Oh, hello, Hermione," a cheerful woman's voice said. "Who is this handsome young man?"   
  
Hermione turned slowly, a perplexed look crossing her face as her eyebrows went so high they almost disappeared into her hairline. "Mrs. Dursley?" she said cautiously. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Oh, please. It's Penny Evans. You can call me Aunt Penny, if you'd like. I know Harry thinks of you as a sister. As it is, I am here to continue my magical education, which was cut short in my earlier years, and I am living here until I find a real job in the magical world."   
  
Draco was not so much confused as indifferent, but he still had no idea what they were talking about. Though that name, Evans, was familiar. He had heard the surname before- Lily Evans, that's who- wait. Lily Evans? "You're Potter's aunt."   
  
"Yes. What an observant young man you are. And your name is?"   
  
"This is Draco Malfoy," Hermione offered, knowing that he was not likely to give this information himself. Draco glanced at her in loving annoyance. "He's the Head Boy."   
  
"Ah, so he is. Well, it is a pleasure to meet you both. I should be off, I have quite a bit of studying to do. My, I do hope the armor is not singing again this year. That certainly grates on one's ears, does it not?" She smiled politely and skipped off down the hall.   
  
"She seems a bit young for her age," Draco said simply.   
  
Hermione shook her head in confusion, holding a hand to her forehead. "There is too much that needs to be explained. I'll have to talk to Harry later." Draco assumed she meant about his aunt.   
  
To the relief of what Draco knew would be everyone in the castle, they had charmed the suits of armor *not* to try to sing Christmas carols.   
  
Hermione got his attention by simply smiling. He loved to look at her smile. He loved to look at her, period. "I think we did well."   
  
"I think so too," he replied. "But still not as good as Halloween."   
  
"That had better not be all I hear for the next three weeks."   
  
"It won't…Hermione, are you really going to the Burrow?"   
  
She looked up at him apologetically. "Yes, but only for a few days. I'll be back by Christmas Eve. I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to spend Christmas with you."   
  
He wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. "You're a wonderful girlfriend, Hermione. Did I ever tell you that?"   
  
She giggled. "Yes, Draco. Only about five thousand times."   
  
"I don't want you to go away."   
  
"I know. I would love to spend every minute of every day with you, but Ginny invited me, and I do love it at the Weasleys'…but not enough to let it keep me away from you."   
  
"Of course not. You would have to love it a *lot*."   
  
"Damn right."   
  
He gasped in mock-horror. "Did the wonderful Hermione Granger just let a swear escape her lips?"   
  
"Cut it out, Draco. It's your bad influence rubbing off, that's what it is. I can't help it, I spend *so* much time with you."   
  
Taking her hand, he led her back to their dorm. "We've been working all day, Hermione." He sat her on the couch, and stretched his legs as he sat next to her. "We deserve a reward, don't you think?"   
  
Smiling, Hermione leaned into him, her lips brushing his lightly, teasingly. There was one thing about her that he could never deny: she had always been a good kisser. He let her take charge as she explored his mouth, his neck, and allowed her tongue to slip in and meld with his own.   
  
*Okay. You've had your fun. Now I'm going to have mine.* He took her in his arms and laid her back against the arm of the sofa. She put her hands to the sides of his torso, waiting for him to move in. He did, right to her neck, and went to work.   
  
"Draco!" She exclaimed half an hour later. He looked up as she came from her corridor, pointing to her neck. "You gave me *two* hickeys! TWO!"   
  
He grinned wickedly. "I know. I meant to."   
  
"This is not funny. How am I supposed to *leave* our rooms until these go away?"   
  
"Hermione, relax. You're telling me you *don't* know the blemish-remover spell?"   
  
"I never had to use it…"   
  
"And that stopped you from learning it? Somehow I find that hard to believe."   
  
"Oh, shut it. Just show me the spell."   
  
Pointing his wand, he uttered, "Clarus!" The hickeys slowly began to fade, blending into her skin. She eyed him suspiciously, went to check herself in the mirror, and reemerged smiling.   
  
"Well, in that case, feel free to give me hickeys whenever you want."   
  
"Are you serious?" He looked at her with wide eyes. This was too good to be true.   
  
"Oh, yes. It feels wonderful. You've had hickeys, haven't you?"   
  
"Well, I've *given* plenty…What? I'm sorry, I told you how I was. You really expected me not to have done *any* of this stuff?"   
  
"*I* haven't."   
  
"Well, you're Hermione, it's different. But to answer your question, none that counted."   
  
"Do you want one?" She asked innocently. *She's less innocent than she appears,* he thought. *She's almost better at this stuff than I am.*   
  
"Now, knowing me, what do you think I'll say?"   
  
"I think you'll say, 'Give it to me now'." She smiled. Leaning over, she brought her lips next to his ear. "But it's almost time for dinner, and I want to eat in the Great Hall today. We'll continue with our- activities afterward."   
  
She pulled away, smiling seductively over her shoulder as she exited the dorm.   
  
Damn, that woman was hot.   
  
End Chapter 35  
  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was put in mainly because I realized that I had just put in four chapters without very much Hermione/Draco action at all. I especially like the hickey section at the end. I just added the bit about Penny because someone suggested it in their review.   
  
I'm going to burst my own protective bubble. I am glad you all like this so much, as I like it a lot. I am grateful for suggestions you make, but at the moment I am approximately eight chapters ahead of what I'm posting, so do not take it personally if your suggestion is not used. It's just that I don't usually feel like going back and adjusting the whole story for a suggestion. I only included this one because I felt that it would be odd not to have Hermione at least meet Penny, and because it could be added at any point in the story. Glegh. That was a long note.   
  
Review for sparkling shruvewip confetti!! I know I want some. I'll just take some for myself…and a little more…there. That should do it. Damn. Oh, fine, Avera! She just told me to put some back or there wouldn't be enough for the reviewers. Damn that Muse, she is always right. 


	37. The Shower Incident

Chapter 36- The Shower Incident   
  
For the past three days, Harry had entered the Great Hall to be met with the sight of ribbons. White ribbons, hanging in the air, bearing the legend "Happy Christmas".   
  
He found he rather enjoyed it.   
  
Deep in concentration, Harry was about to make the move that would allow him to capture Ron's queen. *Maybe I should just let him win. Whoa! What am I saying? He'll win anyway!*   
  
"Knight to E3."   
  
Ron lost his queen. Four moves later, he had checkmated Harry.   
  
Harry stood, stretched, and went to his room to remove some of his many layers. He wanted to go out flying, but Professor McGonagall refused to let them practice that day. Harry had looked out of the window to see sleet pelting down. He grumbled for an hour about professors being completely unfair.   
  
"I'm taking a shower," he announced.   
  
"See you in about two hours, then," Ron grinned, and he started for the door.   
  
"Ron, wait." Harry took a deep breath as he turned to face him. He felt his heart flutter, and his head spun. He swayed a little, but Ron was by his side in a flash, holding his arm. "I don't want to be alone right now." Harry put a hand to his head, wondering what could be wrong with him.   
  
"It's all right, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." Ron helped him into the bathroom, where suddenly he was all right again. Rolling his eyes at his own unpredictable condition, Harry proceeded to remove the rest of his clothes, then started the water.   
  
"My, my," the mirror remarked. "I don't mind looking at that for another two hours."   
  
"Hey, watch it," Ron snapped. "That's my boyfriend you're reflecting."   
  
"Ron, get a grip. It's a mirror." Harry smiled as he pulled the shower door closed. He sighed as the heat of the water relaxed him. For a while he slowly washed his hair and body as he enjoyed the shower.   
  
Ron was still there, Harry could tell by listening to the periodical mumbling and shuffling of feet. He kept locking and unlocking the door, unable to decide whether he wanted anyone else to enter the bathroom. Harry laughed inwardly as he pictured exactly what Ron was doing to keep himself busy out there.   
  
"Ron," he called suddenly. He had just been infused with spontaneity.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Come over here. Oh, but you might want to take off some of your clothes first."   
  
Apparently, this gave Ron some idea of Harry's idea, and he took them all off. Harry opened the door to the shower partway to glimpse him as he approached. This was the first time Harry had ever seen Ron nude, and vice versa. Ron had developed muscles in his chest, abdomen, and arms, and Harry found the look incredibly attractive.   
  
When Ron was close enough, Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him in. Closing the door quickly, he shoved Ron against the wall. Ron grabbed Harry by the waist and drew him close, their hips touching.   
  
It did not take them long to progress to snogging- not long at all. Harry pressed his lips forcefully on Ron's, and Ron responded by pulling Harry tighter into him. Their slick bodies slid against each other rapturously. Harry felt himself rising…  
  
The door suddenly opened, and someone entered. They froze. "Ron…I thought you locked the door."   
  
Ron put a hand to his forehead. "Oh no, I forgot to lock it again before I-" Harry put his hand over Ron's mouth.   
  
"Hello?" Neville's voice called. "Anyone here?" Neither of them answered. "Oh, well." He left again three minutes later.   
  
Relieved that they were alone again, Harry and Ron burst out laughing. "Ron, I love you. Go lock the door."   
  
"Next time we're using the Prefects' bathroom."   
  
"Oo, bubbles…"  
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Um…Ron, I have a serious problem." Harry had just searched his trunk five times over, and he had searched in every other place he might keep his belongings.   
  
"What, Harry? Did you get your period?"   
  
"Ron, be *serious*. But no, I didn't."   
  
"Okay, what happened?"   
  
Harry beckoned Ron closer to whisper in his ear. "The cloak is gone."   
  
"What? What do you think happened to it?"   
  
"I don't know, Ron. That's why it's a serious problem. And no one will be able to *see* them, you know? This is quite something, isn't it." He shook his head.   
  
"Who would steal it from you?"   
  
"Well, it would have to be a Gryffindor," Harry began.   
  
"Uh-oh. This is going to take a while. I think we can rule out the Creeveys, since they're in love with you."   
  
"I thought that was you?" Harry teased.   
  
"Oh, right. Then obviously I didn't do it either."   
  
"Ron, shut up."   
  
"Okay. Hermione's never in the dorm anymore, so it wasn't her-"   
  
"Even if she was, she wouldn't steal from me. Be sensible, Ron."   
  
"Well, you never know. I mean, she did start dating Malfoy."   
  
"I guess you're right. But she wouldn't steal. That's just so not her."   
  
"Oh, yeah, I just remembered. Not many people know you have it. That should make it easier."   
  
"So who does know?"   
  
"Well, there's Dumbledore and Snape, and Moody- I mean, Barty Crouch, so never mind. Me, you, Hermione, Ginny…I think that's it, of the people who are here."   
  
Harry thought for a moment. "Have you seen Ginny or Seamus today?"   
  
"Come to think of it, not since our shower."   
  
"Ron, do you think Ginny would have taken it?"   
  
Ron looked as though realization had just whacked him over the head with a broom. "If she had a good reason to… we have to let Dumbledore know."   
  
"No, Ron. Listen, I trust Ginny. She wouldn't take it without a good reason, and obviously she wanted it so that no one could see where she was going. My guess is, she followed Seamus to St. Mungo's. She'll return the cloak," Harry said with stony certainty.   
  
"You sure?" Ron asked, drawing Harry into a hug.   
  
"Yes. Just let her do what she needs to do."   
  
Ron led Harry up to his room, telling him that he would distract him from the cloak. "Okay, Harry," he said when the door had been locked, and a Silencing Charm placed on the room, along with a Sealing Charm. He reached for the box of Every Flavor Condoms, which they were keeping in Ron's room for privacy's sake.   
  
Two minutes later, Ron spat onto the floor. "Let's try another one," he said, making a face. "That one tasted like paint thinner."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
When Harry later returned to his own room, he found a note on his bed.   
  
~*Dear Harry,   
  
I'm sorry I took the cloak without asking. I had use of it, and you weren't around. I think you were in the shower. Anyway, I had to take it. I'm very sorry, I hope you can forgive me. I put it back in your trunk when I came back. Also, you'll probably be happy to know, Seamus's mother now remembers everything, and Seamus and I are back together. I think he's almost convinced to apologize to you and rejoin the team.  
  
My Deepest Apologies, Ginny*~  
  
End Chapter 36  
  
Is this appropriate for PG-13, do you think, or should I up the rating? I know it's not even that bad, but…yeah.   
  
Once again, thank you for the reviews, I'm glad you like the last chapter, with the hickeys and all. Ahem. Yes, well.   
  
Review for confetti! Every Flavor Confetti! 


	38. Remember

Chapter 37- Remember  
  
"I'm sorry about this, Harry," Ginny murmured, "but I need this." She pulled the Invisibility Cloak from the bottom of his trunk, and wrapping it around herself, went down to find Seamus.   
  
He was already on his way out. She followed as close behind him as she dared, through the portrait hole, through the corridors, out the front door. Seamus went as far as he had to in order to Apparate.   
  
"Damn him!" Ginny shouted, when she was left alone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?" However, she knew where he was going- to St. Mungo's. She had been anticipating this day for a while, when he would finally disregard Dumbledore's request that he stay away and try to revive his mother on his own.   
  
She summoned her broom, and flew to Mungo's, wondering how she knew how to get there from Hogwarts. She did not really care. She only wondered to keep the dread from her mind.   
  
"Ginny Weasley, to see Mrs. Finnigan," she told the mannequin. It beckoned her in, and she stepped inside. Looking around, she did not see Seamus anywhere. He must have been in her room already.   
  
Knowing how the hospital worked, Ginny knew that she would not be allowed to see Mrs. Finnigan. Tucking the cloak under her arm, she made her way to the stairs and began to climb. She stopped at the fourth floor- spell damage.   
  
Sighing, she went to work checking every room to see if she could see Seamus anywhere. Farther down the hall, she heard his voice, and stopped short. He was saying a spell, it seemed. Ginny crept to the door. She peeked around the corner.   
  
Seamus had his wand out, pointing to his mother. She could barely decipher the words he spoke, until the very end. "Remember," he commanded. "Remember…"   
  
The air was rent with screams from Mrs. Finnigan. Ginny was horrified.   
  
"Seamus!"   
  
"Ginny? What are you doing here?"   
  
"I'm not sure," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "What about you?"   
  
Seamus's gaze shifted to his mother for a moment. "I can't wait for my mother to wake up and know me. Do you have any idea how agonizing it is, that your own mother thinks you are dead, that you can't even see her, because you aren't allowed yet? Do you know what I've been through?"   
  
"No, I don't. But what are you doing to her?"   
  
"I'm making her remember."   
  
"How? If this goes wrong, you could kill her!"   
  
Mediwitches by the dozen entered, alarmed by the patient's yells. One stopped before Ginny and Seamus. "You shouldn't be here! No visitors allowed at the moment!"   
  
"This is my damn mother, lady, and she doesn't even know me! She could be curing right now, and you want me to go away?"   
  
"Well, you, young lady, should not be here."   
  
"All right, I'll-" Ginny started, taking a step toward the door.   
  
Seamus's hand clamped on her arm. "She stays," he said firmly. The witch turned helplessly after a moment to aid the others.   
  
Ginny felt a bruise forming at Seamus's tough grip. "Seamus, stop it! I don't want to stay!"   
  
"I want you to!"   
  
"Why?"   
  
"I- because I do, that's why!"   
  
"Seamus, if you don't let me go, I'll report you to Dumbledore."   
  
"Good, and reveal that you were far off Hogwarts grounds without permission. Get yourself expelled along with me, will you?"   
  
"Seamus, I was trying to help you! You may have been going through a hard time, but think how hard it is for me! If you won't be with me, then I don't want to be here! I don't want to be with you! Let me *go*!" She felt tears forming in her eyes. When she tried to blink them back, they spilled over.   
  
"I can't, Ginny!"   
  
"Why not!" she screamed, terrified, confused, and helpless to fight her tears.   
  
"Because I need you!"   
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"Ginny, it's been so hard without you. This would all have been better if I had you to comfort me."   
  
"It's your fault I wasn't there! You were the one who broke up with me! Or don't you remember?"   
  
"Yes, I remember! Do you think I could forget something like that? But I was too embarrassed to try to get you back! I still want to be with you, Ginny. I love you."   
  
"Prove it, then!"   
  
The moment he had let go of her arm, he grabbed her by the waist, his arms keeping her right up against him.   
  
"Seamus, what are you doing? Let me go!" Ginny was strong, but Seamus was much stronger.   
  
He shook his head. Then he brought it down close to hers, and he kissed her deeply.   
  
Her knees went weak and buckled. When at last the kiss ended, Ginny was sobbing openly. She wept onto his shoulder as he kept her standing. Every tear she had suppressed since Seamus had left her in the locker room seemed to be pushing its way to the surface.   
  
"I love you, Ginny. I'm never going to go away again."   
  
She could not respond, only cry harder.   
  
The mediwitches were at last finished with their work. Mrs. Finnigan lay peacefully in her bed. They filed out, leaving the teenagers alone with the unconscious woman.   
  
"Do you think your spell worked?" Ginny asked at last.   
  
"I don't know. We might have to wait to find out."   
  
A quiet voice came from behind them. "Seamus?"   
  
He rushed to his mother's side, leaving Ginny to sink to the floor. Her legs were still too weak to support her.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ginny took another careful sip of her tea.   
  
"So you stole Harry Potter's cloak and flew here from Hogwarts, just to make sure I was all right?" Seamus summarized. "Wow. You must really care about me."   
  
"Do you think I would have stayed with you that long, even after I caught you making out with Lavender, if I didn't?"   
  
He looked down at the table top, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that."   
  
"It's all right. Just forget it."   
  
"Why didn't you just abduct me and tie me to a chair until I listened to you? It seems like something you would do."  
  
Ginny smiled. "I- don't know, now that you mention it." They laughed.   
  
"Thank you, Ginny."   
  
"It's nothing."   
  
He reached across the table to take her hand. "I'm sorry if I hurt your arm."   
  
"What, this? I've had much worse. You know, when I'd fight with Ron." She giggled. "He could have been bleeding from the ears, mum would still yell at him for fighting with me."   
  
Seamus laughed. "I suppose you milked the 'only girl' thing for all it was worth, right?"   
  
"Oh, I didn't have to. I was always the favorite."   
  
Downstairs, they went to the fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts. "So what are you going to tell Harry about the cloak?"   
  
"The truth, I suppose. He probably already knows I have it. Not very many people know about it to begin with. I'm one of those few."   
  
"Will he be angry?"   
  
"Who knows?" Ginny took a handful of Floo powder, and threw it on the hearth, announcing, "Gryffindor Tower common room!"   
  
She was shot out the other end to find the common room empty. Relieved, she waited for Seamus, who came out a few seconds later. She laughed at his hair, saturated with soot and sticking up in all directions.   
  
"What?" he asked, putting a hand to his hair.   
  
"Nothing." Ginny shook her head. "Come here."   
  
And he swept her up in his arms, and they were both lost in a kiss.   
  
End Chapter 37  
  
Yay for reviews!! Yay for the Shower incident!! Yay for edible confetti!!   
  
Review now for leftover edible confetti! I have a lot of it here. 


	39. My Eye Is On You

Chapter 38- My Eye Is On You  
  
Hermione woke on the day before she was to leave for the Burrow. She stretched under the covers, sighing, and slid out of bed. *I'm going to stay in my pajamas all day. I'll just stay in the dorm.*  
  
Over the past few days, she and Draco had grown even closer. They never left each other's side, and they spent as much time snogging as talking. Hermione sighed at the memories.   
  
As she sauntered to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she sang quietly. "Come what may…"   
  
"Oh, dear, you're bleeding again," the mirror tutted.   
  
Hermione's head shot up. Forgetting her teeth, she ran out to the common room. "Draco!" she called in panic.   
  
He emerged faster than she had thought possible, his worried expression turning even more worried when he saw the bleeding wound over her eye. "I'll take you to Madame Pomfrey," he said, putting his arm firmly around her shoulders to guide her.   
  
"No, Draco, wait. I don't want to go there."   
  
He stopped walking. "Well, what am I supposed to do?"   
  
"You can heal it. Here." She told him the spell. He guided her to a chair, then left to retrieve his wand. She waited patiently, with a hand cupped over her eye.   
  
"Look up, Hermione." She saw the wand pointed at her eye, then felt the pain recede as he uttered the counter curse. He sat near her, letting his breath out in a huff.   
  
They sat in silence for a while, relieved that the crisis was past. They had their breakfast brought, and Hermione let the rich taste of the slave-prepared food distract her for a time.   
  
When she could stand it no longer, she spoke. "Draco, why does this mean so much to you?" He looked up in surprise. "I can tell by the way you react, you know exactly what is happening. What is it?"   
  
Draco stood. He began to pace. When finally he stopped, his back was to her. "I broke my promise, Hermione. I told myself I would not let you be hurt, but I broke it. I tried to push you away, but I cannot deny that I love you. I am too weak to do what must be done."   
  
"What are you talking about? You don't have any control over this. Voldemort is just evil. No matter what you did, he would hate me, just because I'm Muggle-born."   
  
"It's not Voldemort," Draco said, sighing heavily. "It's my father."   
  
Hermione stared at him in shocked silence. This is the expression he saw when he finally turned and looked at her. "Your…father? But- why- how?"   
  
"I've explained it to you, haven't I? The night I left the mansion, I told him about you- it just slipped. I was already outside when he threatened you. I almost turned back at that point, but I didn't. When this happened, the last time, I knew that he was reminding me of his threat- or promise. I don't know what it was, but I intend to see that he does not keep it. I promised myself, I would push you away no matter what it cost me, to keep you safe. I can't do that."   
  
"And I will never let you," she said sternly. "Oh, Draco, why didn't you tell me?"   
  
"I was trying to keep you safe, Hermione. You can ask less of me, but I cannot give it."   
  
"What difference would it have made if I had known? Do you really think it would have changed anything?"   
  
"Well, I was young and stupid then." He smiled slightly.   
  
"As opposed to what?" she teased.   
  
"Hey. That's…not all that funny." He laughed slightly, refuting his own argument.   
  
"Listen," Hermione began. "I could die happy right now, just being with you."   
  
"You'd die a virgin," he muttered.   
  
"Not yet, Draco," she smiled. "Not yet. We have enough time."   
  
"Maybe not. If you died, Hermione, *I* would not be happy. You can't just think about yourself in this."  
  
"I don't. I was trying to tell you that you have made me the happiest I could ever be."   
  
"Ahem. Well, I cannot protect you one way, but perhaps I can find another."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"There must be some kind of ward, or shield, that can be used against this curse. We have all day, and the library will be all but empty."   
  
"Oh, Draco, I was so looking forward to doing nothing with you all day! Can't we take care of it later?"   
  
"Tell you what, sweetie," he said, taking a few steps toward her, bringing their bodies so close they brushed each other. "I won't let you out of my sight until we have taken care of this. I refuse to let you go off to the Weasleys' with this kind of danger hanging over your head."   
  
She smiled broadly. "You really do care about me, don't you?"   
  
He caressed her cheek. "Of course, my love."   
  
Sighing with a mixture of contentment and reluctance, Hermione retreated into her room, slipping on jeans and a sweater in preparation for a day at the library.   
  
Madame Pince barely flickered an eyelash at Hermione's entrance. She glanced twice at Draco, not used to seeing him, but afterward paid them no more attention. They sat in the far corner. The pile of books on the table slowly accumulated to impressive proportions.   
  
Hermione closed another book, knitting her brow in frustration. "I can't find anything that we can use. How can they have no record of the curse?"   
  
"They do, in here," Draco replied, tapping his finger on a short paragraph. "It mentions the curse, and that some people found a way to guard against it, but it does not say what that is. Great load of help, this book." He threw it on the pile.   
  
"Here's something…no, it only says that it instilled fear and panic. How are we ever going to find *anything* if no one can write anything down?!"   
  
"Hermione, this is a library!" Draco put a hand to his cheek, mock-scandalized.   
  
She swatted at him with the book she was holding. He caught it in his hand, pulling her in for a kiss, and opened to a page late in the book. "Well, here's something…"   
  
He read on silently. Hermione decided not to wait any longer. "What, where's something?"   
  
"This. 'When Dumbledore's brother was threatened with the curse, he worked to find a way to prevent it from happening again. He created an effective shield, which he then taught to select wizards and witches.' …that's all. It doesn't say what it is."   
  
"But it's Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed. "You know what that means, don't you?"   
  
He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't know what it means. Should I?"   
  
She rolled her eyes impatiently. "It means we can go ask him personally! Come on!" She grabbed his hand and speed-walked from the library, through the halls, right to the entrance to Dumbledore's study.   
  
"Oh, no, I've forgotten the password. Do you remember, Draco?"   
  
He did. He spoke, and the gargoyle sprang to life. They stepped onto the spinning staircase, and were brought up to the headmaster's quarters. Hermione knocked on the door to his office.   
  
"Come in."   
  
Hermione pushed the door open to find that Fawkes had just been reborn. "Something I can do for you, Miss Granger? Mister Malfoy?"   
  
"Yes, sir," Hermione said. "You see, it happened again. With the 'My Eye Is On You' curse. Just this morning, very early. I had Draco say the counter curse for me, but we were trying to find a way to prevent it from happening again, and we found your name. It said you came up with a shield that worked against that curse. What is it?"   
  
Dumbledore looked up gravely. "It happened again, and you did not inform me?"   
  
Hermione cast her eyes down in embarrassment. "I didn't want to leave the common room," she admitted quietly. Chancing a glance up, she saw that the headmaster's eyes were twinkling with amusement.   
  
"I can overlook it this once, but if it ever happens again, you must tell me."   
  
"Well, you see, we were hoping that it would not happen again if we knew how to stop it." Hermione squeezed Draco's hand for reassurance, and he squeezed back.   
  
"I see. Well, sit down. I will tell you what I found out."   
  
Not letting go each other's hands, Hermione and Draco sat facing Dumbledore's desk. He did not sit, but walked slowly as he explained to them the procedure to create the shield. "I warn you now. Once you start, there is no turning back. It is a highly dangerous spell, and unless it is done exactly as I tell you, could result in some very serious consequences. The worst of these would be the deaths of two students, who happen to be sitting in my office at this moment. It is also rather long; it will take a total of three hours, probably. I will assist you, if you ask me to. If you do not, I will write the instructions, and you can do it on your own."   
  
Hermione looked to Draco to answer for her. He placed his hand over hers, and read the answer in her eyes. "I think for this, headmaster, we need each other, and we need to do it alone."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Draco asked.   
  
"Yes," she panted. "I think I can last long enough."   
  
She was panting because the room they were in was incredibly hot. It was a steam room, Hermione deduced, somewhere in the dungeons. Beyond that, she had no idea where they were. As part of the ceremony for the conjuring of the shield, she had been led to the room blindfolded. A light mist was filling the room, such that her vision was impaired.   
  
Draco sat her on the floor. She waited silently, trying to keep her mind focused, as he said the preparing words. When he had done this, she laid back, shutting her eyes. She did not want to watch what was coming next.   
  
"This blood is offered as protection for this woman. Let it guard her against those who would use fear to rule her." Draco's comforting words were tainted with the feel of his blood dripping onto her forehead. She resisted the horrible urge to shudder at the knowledge that he had pierced his own skin for her. The liquid then blended into her skin, as if it were never there.   
  
The spinning began. He said the sealing words, that would bind his blood to be her ward, until the threat was past. She felt like she was trying to fall asleep, but she was prevented somehow. As though a sheet of glass lay between her and oblivion, but her mind was clear as it is for the fraction of a second it is before you fall asleep. In that moment, she saw-   
  
Hermione was startled into consciousness. Draco was there immediately, holding her in his arms. "It's all right. He can't scare us anymore."   
  
"I saw- I saw…oh, Draco…"   
  
"Shh, take a deep breath, Hermione. What was it?"   
  
She followed his advice, then looked up into his eyes. "I don't know. I think it was Heaven."   
  
*If I should die this very moment,   
  
I wouldn't fear.  
  
For I've never known completeness  
  
Like being here,   
  
Wrapped in the warmth of you,  
  
Loving every breath of you…  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you until my dying day*  
  
Draco never asked her what Heaven looked like. Either he did not care, or he did not want her to relive those memories that had given her the vision. Whatever the reason, he did not bring up anything that had happened that night.   
  
She barely slept at all that night. She was too distracted. Almost, she wished he *would* ask her, so she could get the thoughts off her chest. If he did not want to talk about it, though, then she would not bring it up. She knew, from his face, he had been afraid the whole time, though he masked it with steadfast determination. For both of these things, she loved him even more.   
  
They had not yet decided to sleep in the common room, instead of their own separate corridors. To her surprise, Draco had not yet suggested it. She knew if she brought it up, he would tease her about wanting to sleep with him.   
  
So she lay in her own bed, reviewing the happenings of the day. She came to one conclusion. Draco would do anything for her. He had proved that.   
  
Anything except pushing her away.   
  
For that, as well, she loved him to the point of bursting.   
  
End Chapter 38   
  
Yes, the next chapter is better. I *promise*. And it's longer too. And it's better. Because I don't like this chapter very much.   
  
Review for invisible confetti. 


	40. Acquiring Ingredients

Chapter 39- Acquiring Ingredients  
  
Hermione left her trunk in the common room, running back to reassure herself that she had everything. When she returned, Draco was standing forlornly by her things.   
  
"Do you have to leave?"   
  
"Yes. It's only for a few days, I'll be back before you know it. Besides, you'll have Crookshanks to keep you company." They both turned to see the cat trot from her corridor.   
  
Hermione thought she heard Draco mutter something about a bow-legged little- "What was that?"   
  
"Nothing. Let me carry your trunk." He concentrated, and the trunk rose into the air. Hermione glared enviously at the levitating luggage as they left their dormitory.   
  
"I do miss the Burrow a little," Hermione said as they walked. "The Weasleys are wonderfully generous, and Mrs. Weasley is such an excellent cook. She really knows how to make food- oh, Ginny!"   
  
They had reached the front entrance, and Hermione caught sight of the youngest Weasley's hair. The streaks, which had been black for the past few months, were now decidedly pink.   
  
"What do you think, Hermione?"   
  
"It's certainly different." She stepped up to Ginny and took a closer look at the streaks. "I like it. It's such a pretty color, as well."   
  
"Come on, let's get our stuff loaded onto the train," Harry urged. He probably wanted to return to the burrow more than any of them.   
  
Hermione walked the short distance to Draco's side. "I'll be back very soon, Draco. I'll miss you, though."   
  
He put his hands on the small of her back, holding her tenderly. "I'll miss you more." He kissed her softly.   
  
Off to the side, Ron snorted and rolled his eyes. Harry elbowed him and began to drag his trunk out. Draco glared after them. "Supportive friends you have there."   
  
"It's just Ron," Hermione said defensively. "I guess he still needs time to get used to us."   
  
"He's had months. I think he should get over himself."   
  
"Goodbye, honey-bubble."   
  
As she turned, she heard Draco try to suppress a groan. She smiled slightly. Taking her wand from her pocket, she lifted her trunk and floated it along.   
  
Hermione liked taking the train during the year. It was not as crowded as the first or last day of school. When they had all settled in, and the train was well on its way, Hermione and Ginny found an empty compartment, leaving Harry and Ron alone.   
  
"So tell me, have you and Draco…?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.   
  
Hermione giggled. "No! He wants to, though. Just yesterday he hinted conspicuously."   
  
"Do you want to?"   
  
Hermione blushed, turning her face away. "I don't know."   
  
Ginny was grinning when she looked back. "That's a yes. So why don't you?"   
  
Hermione cleared her throat. "So what about you? Have you and Seamus…you know?"   
  
"Not yet," Ginny said, flashing a seductive half-smile. "But if I have my way that will not be the way of it for long."   
  
"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. "You don't mean it."   
  
"Oh, but I do. I really want to do this. I love Seamus, and I know he loves me."   
  
"You really can't wait until you leave school?"   
  
"By that time, he will have been gone for a year. I want to get as close to him as I can while I still have a chance. I can't let him go becoming enamored with some haughty French girl or something, can I?"   
  
Hermione smiled. "I suppose not. You really think that sex will make the difference?"   
  
"Oh, trust me. Sex makes *all* the difference."   
  
The girls giggled for a few minutes. They were both preoccupied at the idea of making love to their prospective boyfriends.   
  
"Do you think Harry and Ron have…?" Hermione wondered.   
  
"Oh Hermione, I do NOT want to think about that. Come on. This is my BROTHER!" Ginny pretended to gag. They both dissolved into giggles again. "It's official, Hermione. Being unavailable has melted your brain."   
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione was slightly insulted.   
  
"You never used to giggle. Ever. Now you can't stop. What has happened to the stern, McGonagall-worshipping Hermione we all know and love?"   
  
"Ginny," Hermione admonished, swatting at her. Then she giggled again, and sighed, giving up. "I suppose you're right. My mind is gone since I've given my heart away."   
  
Ginny sobered at once, and made a sound akin to that Hermione made when she saw puppies. "That is so sweet!" she sighed dreamily. "I wish I could think of things like that. It's so romantic. Merlin, I wish I was you, Hermione."   
  
"You wouldn't if you were."   
  
"Well, I am jealous. Seamus is sweet, but he's not remotely romantic. I need some of that…some romance."   
  
"Maybe you should ask for it for Christmas," Hermione joked.   
  
A slow smile spread across her face. "Maybe I will…"   
  
"Ginny, what are you thinking?"   
  
"Oh, nothing serious. I know someone who could discreetly suggest to Seamus that he should be romantic. Girls like that. Okay, it's his mother."   
  
"Ginny, she was just let out of the hospital! You shouldn't-"   
  
"Oh, Hermione. It's not bothering her. She sent me an owl saying she can't stand to be pampered, especially when nothing is wrong. She was kept there for observation, but aside from the fluctuations in her appetite, she's her old self. She'd love it if I asked for her help, honestly."   
  
Hermione relented. "Well, all right. I suppose it couldn't hurt. And it is marvelous to have all that romance."   
  
"Oh, shut up, Hermione. Now you're just taunting me."   
  
"Of course I'm not!"   
  
Ginny raised an eyebrow at her.   
  
"Okay, maybe a little," Hermione giggled.   
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "If there were any pillows here, I'd throw them at you."   
  
"As long as we remember, we can have a pillow fight when we get to the Burrow."   
  
The younger girl smiled. "What has gotten into you, Hermione?"   
  
The older sighed. "Love."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco braced himself for the sneering before he knocked on Snape's door. "Yes!" He turned the knob and stepped in. His back was straight, and he kept his gaze directly on his Head of House.   
  
"Sir, would you happen to have any of these ingredients?"   
  
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Snape scanned the parchment. "What is this for?"   
  
"A potion. I have express permission from Professor Dumbledore to make it, and he suggested that you might have some of these things."   
  
Snape stood, scowling, and went to his private stores. "I have the nightshade, dragon's blood, and powdered chimera eggshell- yes, Malfoy, chimera do lay eggs," Snape said as he handed the ingredients to Draco.   
  
"I think I also have the star pixie eyelashes…yes, here they are. This is a big favor, I'm almost out. Here you go. I believe Professor Sprout has some malfatona leaves."   
  
"Thank you, Professor," Draco nodded, gathering up the ingredients.   
  
He next went to Professor Sprout's office. "Professor, I need some malfatona leaves. Do you have any?"   
  
"Dried or fresh?" the woman asked jovially, wandering to a cabinet on the wall.   
  
Draco checked the list. "Fresh." She gave him the leaves, and cheerfully saw him on his way.   
  
After depositing the ingredients in his room, he looked over the instructions again.   
  
*I guess I can get the loverswort at Diagon Alley. It will only take a few minutes for that…but where on earth am I going to find the heart of a fire-breathing lion?*   
  
He pondered this for the entire night, and again the next day when he left to shop for the loverswort. It took him all of twenty minutes and twelve sickles to get it, but he still could not come up with an answer for the heart.   
  
"Fire-breathing lion…how can I get a fire-breathing lion's heart by tomorrow night? I want to have everything by the time Hermione comes back… It's no use. I should just forget about the whole thing."   
  
"Oh no you don't!"   
  
Draco turned quickly. "Who said that?"   
  
"I did!" He scoured the walls with his eyes, but could not see any pictures that could be talking to him.   
  
"Behind the curtain, genius!"   
  
Draco walked to the window, pulling back the curtain. He found that it was snowing outside, and that what should have been his reflection was instead a young boy, with brown hair and dancing brown eyes, dressed in untidy but expensive clothes. Draco blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Now you're getting it."   
  
"Who are you?"   
  
"Well, that depends on how you look at it. Some call me Eros, others go for the more popular, infamous name-"   
  
"Cupid," Draco supplied.   
  
"That's right! Well, you do know something. Look at that."  
  
Draco crossed his arms defiantly. "Did you want something?"   
  
"You can't just not do it. This was going to be one of the deepest declarations of love I've seen for years, and now you think you're backing out, just because of one lousy ingredient? I don't think so."   
  
"Well, if you can get me a fire-breathing lion heart, I'll gladly go along with it."   
  
"Hey, I'm not going to make it that easy for you, buster. But if you want to do it, I know how you can get one."   
  
"How?" Draco leaned forward attentively.   
  
"Do I have your attention?" Draco nodded. The reflection lifted a hand and made a flicking motion. At the same time, something hit Draco's nose.   
  
"Hey!" He pulled back, refusing to rub the spot that had been hit as Eros laughed at his trick.   
  
"Sorry. Well, no I'm not, but let's get back to our business. Now. Fire-breathing lions aren't too common around here. In fact, I doubt you could get what you're looking for on the black market in less than three months, if you paid handsomely. They're incredibly rare. But it so happens I have one."   
  
"Great! So let's have it."   
  
"Hold on there, bud. I can't just hand it to you. I have to make sure you're *worthy*."   
  
"What do you mean by that?"   
  
"Just hold on a minute." The reflection tapped his chin in thought. "Okay, I've got it. First, I need to ask you. If she said she was leaving you, what would you do?"   
  
"I'd fight to keep her, with every breath in my body," Draco replied truthfully. No matter what, he could not just let her go.   
  
"Good." The reflection nodded approval. "Okay. I've put the heart somewhere in the castle for you. You have to find it."   
  
"How will I do that?"   
  
"I'll give you a clue. Here, be sure to write it down."   
  
A half an hour later, Draco sat in the common room, trying to figure out the riddle Eros had given him.   
  
~*Where love has been strong,   
  
And stars are always clear,  
  
Where lessons are learned,   
  
You will find me here.   
  
You'll be high at the top  
  
When at last I'm revealed.  
  
You could not reach this place  
  
If the doorway was concealed.  
  
Search throughout the hallways,  
  
Your seeking is unyielding   
  
For I am in a place  
  
Far beyond this mundane feeling.   
  
Cold stone surrounds me  
  
Though I will be warm,  
  
Do not lose me out the window,  
  
Lest I come to harm.  
  
When at last you've found   
  
This special gift,   
  
You will understand my meaning,  
  
Your *heart* will lift. *~   
  
"What the hell does that mean?" Draco had asked Eros.   
  
"Ah, that's for you to find out." Without another word, he was gone.   
  
"Okay. I can do this." Stone…the whole castle is stone, the twit. Obviously it's on a high level of the castle- probably one of the towers. Don't drop out the window, high at the top. It's not in a hallway. Okay, that narrows it down a lot. Beyond mundane…does that mean the doorway *is* sometimes concealed? Love is strong…probably means somewhere a lot of couples go…wait…lessons learned…stars clear…no way.   
  
"No way. The Astronomy Tower?" He tucked the paper with the riddle into his pocket, his pace quickening with every step he took. *This is ridiculous. Why would someone put a heart in the Astronomy Tower?*   
  
He reached his destination sooner than he might have expected. His heart was racing as he put his hand to the door handle. It was from both his speed and excitement, he thought. If it truly was there, he would have the last ingredient necessary…well, aside from their hairs.   
  
The tower was empty. Draco's heart sank. He was about to leave again when he heard a voice. "Hey, you! Where are you going?" It was Eros, shaking his head. "I was just messing with you. Good job, you solved it! Well, here you go! Good luck, Venus bless your love!" And the new reflection was gone in a flash.   
  
Suddenly, in Draco's hand, was something very warm and somewhat slippery. He looked down to see what was unmistakably a heart. His own soared, elated that he would be able to do what he intended when Hermione returned.   
  
Their love would last forever. He was sure of it.   
  
End Chapter 39   
  
Ah, that Cupid. Such a trouble maker. Finally you see the many faces of Love. Anyway, review for loverswort confetti. You will be pleased…I mean it. Yeah. 


	41. Letters, Dragons and Roses

Chapter 40- Letters, Dragons, and Roses  
  
Draco was monotonously, irritatingly impatient on the day Hermione returned. To keep himself busy, he reread the instructions for the potion about a thousand times…but even that could not completely distract him.   
  
*I hope she'll agree. I don't want to have gone to all that effort for nothing.*  
  
"Of course she'll agree," he told himself. "She loves you, right? She'll probably be jealous she didn't think of it first."   
  
Contenting himself with this thought, he settled down onto the couch. A moment later, he sprang up again, pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the fire. He checked the time- again. It was twelve thirteen. "Damn. This is going to take forever."   
  
He went back into his bedroom, retrieving his broom. Flying *might* take his mind of Hermione. It would be a number of hours before she arrived, and he could not stand to sit and do nothing.   
  
As soon as he felt the cold breeze brushing his face, some of his anticipation was relieved. He took the air in with a few deep breaths, calming his on-edge nerves. Circling the pitch, he watched the ground, unbroken by any wandering student.   
  
After a time, he became aware of the numbness in every exposed part of his body. Despite the clarity of the day, it was late December. It was always cold outside at this time. Regretfully, Draco alighted on the ground. He shouldered the broom and returned to the common room, where he warmed himself in front of the most inviting fire.  
  
For an hour, he managed to distract his focus with food. Eclairs, cupcakes, pie, roasted chicken, fish fillets, steak, meatballs, pasta, stir-fry- even hamburgers. He tried some of everything. It was about five thirty when he had finished.   
  
He groaned, putting a lethargic hand to his stomach. "I think I ate to much," he sighed, and lay back on the couch. "I guess a little nap won't hurt. Sleep off the food…" His head hit the cushion, and he was out like a light.   
  
He was awakened by the restriction of breath. Not only was something lying on top of his lungs, but something else was wrapped tightly around his neck. Smiling broadly, Draco wrapped his arms around the something. "Hermione!" It came out strangled, and Hermione let go at the sound.   
  
"Sorry," she smiled, "I just missed you so much, I had to choke you."   
  
"I'll bet."   
  
"Well, excuse me, you can't even stay awake to wait for me."   
  
"How long have I been asleep?"   
  
"I don't know. It's nine thirty."   
  
"Nine thirty! You were supposed to be here at seven!"   
  
"I know, I'm sorry. The train was delayed. I hope you weren't too bored, honey-bubble," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.   
  
He rolled his eyes, pushing her off his lap. "Hey!" She took one of the cushions from the couch and threw it at him. He ducked it, then straightened, sticking his tongue out at her. She proceeded to throw the rest of them, which progressed into a one-sided pillow fight. Hermione threw pillows at him, and he continued to duck them.   
  
When she went to put them all back, she stopped, staring at the couch. "Did you know this was a pullout couch, Draco?"   
  
He raised one eyebrow. "A what couch?"   
  
"Pullout. Look." She took a handle and pulled, and the inside of the couch came out.   
  
"What's the point of that? We could just enlarge it magically."   
  
"Well, I suppose you're right. Still, I wonder…"   
  
"Ahem. Are you ready, Hermione?"   
  
"Ready for what?"   
  
"For your Christmas present."   
  
"Oh, please, not until tomorrow. I would feel silly anyway, I didn't have a chance to get you anything."   
  
He pulled out the parchment, disregarding her protests, and handed it to her. Reluctantly, she scanned it. She gasped with surprised pleasure. "Promise rings? Really?"   
  
Breaking into a grin, Draco nodded. "I have all the ingredients already- all except your hair. We'll do it tomorrow."   
  
"Oh, Draco!" Hermione exclaimed. There were tears in her eyes. She flung her arms around his neck. "This is amazing! Thank you!"   
  
"What did you expect? Nothing could better tell you how much I love you."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione looked over the instructions again. "We really put everything in whole?" she asked skeptically. Draco came from behind her, bearing the dragon's blood.   
  
"That's what this is for, darling," he said, pouring it in.   
  
She smiled at him. "I suppose it has symbolism. Everything whole. Anyway, I rather prefer it this way. I could never have cut up the heart of a lion."   
  
They followed the directions to the letter, placing the heart into the cauldron last. They sat to watch as the potion brewed to a nondescript reddish-gray. Neither of them spoke. They held each other's hands tightly, nervous and excited, as they kept their eyes on the cauldron, stirring occasionally.   
  
"It's time now," Draco said when it was. "We have to add the hairs."   
  
Hermione winced slightly when he yanked a few hairs from his head, dropping them into the potion. Hermione severed a couple of strands with her wand, and put them in as well.   
  
Hermione was reminded greatly of Professor Winkly when it began to turn colors. Around Draco's pale hair the potion turned a fiery blue. Her own hair turned it bright orange. The colors spread, meeting in the middle of the cauldron. Where they bled into each other, they became one color- but it seemed more than one at once. It was a dark shade of purplish-blue that seemed to lean toward green somehow. Hermione had never seen a color so uniquely beautiful.   
  
In an instant the potion had vanished, and Hermione knew that their rings lay expectantly in the bottom of the cauldron. She felt her own grip tighten, and Draco squeezed in response. "This is it."   
  
She looked deeply into his gray eyes. They pierced into her soul. She knew there was no need to say "I love you". Their feelings could not be expressed in words. As one, they stepped forward, and she reached down to scoop up the rings.   
  
They were identical, but one was larger and obviously meant for a man's finger. The bands were formed from the wings of a dragon folding over each other. Its tail curled across its back, shifting to a rose, which the dragon held in its mouth. Its eyes were minute rubies, and inside of the bands a strange inscription read, "L-N-E-P-M-O-S-I".   
  
"What is the rose for?" Draco wondered.   
  
"Rose is my middle name," Hermione said quietly. "But these letters…wait, letters! I get it." They both laughed. The promise rings were displaying a sense of humor.   
  
Hermione handed the smaller one to Draco. He slid it onto the ring finger of her right hand, and she did the same with his. They shared a long, searching kiss, infused with passionate love, and stayed locked in an embrace for hours before either of them was willing to move.   
  
"I love you," Draco said finally. "You can be sure you will have this ring forever."   
  
"As will you," Hermione whispered back. For how could she ever stop loving Draco? She could not fathom that situation to any extent. "My heart is yours, for all time. Come what may," she smiled.   
  
Draco's hand slid down to hers, while the other retrieved his wand from a pocket. With a flourish, a melodic waltz sounded through the dormitory, and Draco led her in a meaningful dance.   
  
"I never knew you were such a good dancer," she laughed at the end. They were exhilaratingly breathless.   
  
"I did know you would be, though. Even when you walk, your steps are more graceful than an angel's flight. Your spirit gives you levity to fly through life without ever leaving the ground. The rest of the world can only watch and wish they could do so much."   
  
"You will always fly beside me," she said, her hands on the back of his neck pulling his head close to hers. "You are the only person I know who has been able to lift yourself above life itself."   
  
"Only by benefit of your love," he replied sincerely. "Before us, I had only ludicrous hope that you would somehow come to see me, and accept me. Now I have only the hope that we will always be together, live side by side, and I will always have you to rely on, and to rely on me." Laughing almost inaudibly, he said, "Imagine my surprise when that ludicrous hope came true. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever deserve you. I still don't."   
  
"I will spend all of my life convincing you that you *do* deserve me. Draco, I cannot think of a better person, a better man than you. Just the fact that you saw past my hair, bookishness, and that I was never the prettiest girl in school, amazes me. I would never have expected it of you before I really knew you. Last year I realized- you are the kind of man who would look past the outward appearance."   
  
"You were always pretty," Draco told her. She blushed, looking down, but she let him tip her face up to look at his. His eyes shone with affection. "But now, you are nothing less than the most beautiful woman in the world."   
  
"Draco…stop. I don't need you to exaggerate to make me feel better."   
  
"I'm not exaggerating. I have never seen your equal in beauty. Not all the veela in the magical world could measure up to you." He kissed her gently. "But I love you for a different reason. Two, actually. Your mind and your heart."   
  
She hugged him tightly. She had never dared to dream that anyone would love her this much. A feeling of such elation filled her, she was surprised that she did not float off the floor.   
  
For the longest time, neither of them said or did anything. They didn't even clean up the ingredients for their potion. They only stood in each other's arms, eventually moving to the couch to sit- still in each other's arms.   
  
It must have been hours that they remained that way. Hermione knew only Draco. He was all she ever wanted to know. *If I just stayed here forever, I could be happy. Who needs school, grades, N.E.W.T.s…something must be wrong with me, if I'm thinking that. No, that's not it. Something is right. That's it, yes. Everything is right.*   
  
End Chapter 40  
  
Aww! That was a squeaky "aww" but I can't write in squeaks. Anyway, I love this chapter! It's just so…so…so…mushy!! It's fluff, wonderful fluff!!!!   
  
In case anyone was wondering, there is a reason why D and H have not seen each other naked yet. I mean, this is Hermione we're talking about. Think about it.   
  
Promise Rings are courtesy of The White Lily, who is an excellent writer and left her fic open for people to write a fic about it. https://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=891650   
  
So review for fluffy confetti, to go with the chapter. 


	42. The Return of Eros

Chapter 41- The Return of Eros   
  
Having planned the feast, Hermione and Draco knew that it would be worth attending. Their hands clasped tightly, they exited their dorm and made for the Great Hall. Draco smiled as they passed the decorations that they had worked so hard to put up. It was worth the effort when a student stopped to wonder at the shimmery shruvewips.   
  
In the center of a rather massive table was a ten-foot roast turkey. Side dishes to satisfy anyone's palate surrounded the main course, garnished with all kinds of fancy leaves and trimmings. Most of the students had arrived for dinner when Hermione and Draco walked in, but two seats had been saved near Dumbledore. They went to these. Draco pulled her chair out, seating her like a true gentleman, and he kissed her hand lightly as he sat down himself.   
  
"New rings?" Dumbledore winked slightly. He turned back to the feast, and he magicked some turkey onto his plate.   
  
Draco thoroughly enjoyed the meal. "I think we're good planners, don't you?"   
  
"Only when we have the right inspiration," Hermione answered with a suggestive smile. She picked up her goblet, which contained a very light wine, and sipped daintily at the savory liquid.   
  
"I have some quite inspiring tricks to show you when we get back to our dorm," he grinned. He knew that she was dying to slap him with a napkin, or something. But she did not. She was visibly embarrassed, however, for a few minutes.   
  
"My compliments on this most excellent turkey," Dumbledore sent in their direction. "I cannot remember tasting its rival. And what an impressively massive turkey."   
  
"Thank you, sir," Draco sent back. "We weren't sure whether we wanted one gigantic turkey or personal miniature turkeys for everyone. Then we just figured, why not get the one no one will be able to see over. The giant turkey won."   
  
Hermione snorted into her plate. Draco glanced at her in amusement, and she shot an affectionate glare at him. He leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. "After this, will you come to the Astronomy Tower with me?"   
  
"Well, of course." She smiled warmly. They both turned back to their desserts- Draco's a varied selection of gourmet fudge. As he bit into a square, he thought, *Well, there are definitely advantages in planning everything*.   
  
When at last the feasts final remnants had disappeared, Draco took Hermione by the hand, leading her from the Great Hall. They wandered through the halls for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet of the night- for the noise was contained within each House's respective common room.   
  
When the time was right, Draco suggested that they start toward the Astronomy Tower. Hermione acquiesced curiously, still not having guessed why he had asked that they go there. She probably assumed that he wanted to snog. Which he did, but that was not the main reason.   
  
Draco closed the door tightly. "What are we doing here?" Hermione asked.   
  
"You'll see," he replied.   
  
"Before you do anything, Draco, I feel I should tell you I'm still not ready."   
  
So she did think he had brought her here to seduce her. He laughed. "That's not why we're here, love. I told you I would wait until you were ready."   
  
"Well…why are we here, then?"   
  
"In about…half an hour, you'll see."   
  
Half an hour later, Draco brought her to the window and looked up. "There it is," he said, a grin crossing his face. "Look up."   
  
Hermione did as he said, and gasped. He saw the smile touch her lips, then turned his eyes back to the sky. He did not want to miss this, after all. It was not every day a man got to see Aurora Borealis.   
  
When finally they were too tired and strained to look any longer, they stepped away from the window. "Just a little present from my friend Boreas," Draco told her.   
  
"Are you serious?"   
  
"Well, not really. I just happened to *listen* in class when the professor told us we would be able to see Aurora Borealis from the tower on Christmas night."   
  
"Oh, leave me alone, Draco. If you must know, I was watching *you* that night."   
  
"Hermione Know-It-All Granger, *not* listening in class? What is the world coming to?"   
  
"It's your fault, so don't give me that."   
  
"How is it my fault?" He pretended to be hurt by her accusations.   
  
"You looked so *good* that night. I just couldn't help it."   
  
Draco looked down as they walked, embarrassedly scratching the back of his head. "Bloody- well, if you must know, I only heard that much of what she said. The rest of the time I was thinking about you."   
  
"Ah, so that explains the goofy grin." Hermione proceeded to open her mouth as wide as she could in imitation.   
  
"That isn't funny."   
  
"Yes it is."   
  
"And so is this," he shot back, lifting her from the floor with wandless magic. He loved doing this to her, if for no other reason than she could not do the same to him.   
  
"No, it's not, Draco."   
  
"Sure it is."   
  
"No It's NOT!!!!"   
  
He set her down, sticking a finger in his ear. "I think my eardrum just popped."   
  
"Well, now you know not to do that any more." She took his hand and kissed it.   
  
"Aren't we just an odd bundle of emotions today?"   
  
"The ring made me do it," Hermione said, smiling sweetly. They both laughed. Draco leaned down to kiss her, and she jumped into his arms.   
  
For the whole vacation, they were out of each other's sight only when they had to use the bathroom. They slept in the common room for the remainder of December, and into the first few days of January. Draco would have loved to keep sleeping with Hermione for the rest of his life.   
  
A week had gone by since Christmas, and Hermione and Draco were just getting into bed to talk. Suddenly, Draco heard a very annoying voice call, "Hey, lover boy! Over here! Can you figure it out on your own this time?"   
  
Rolling his eyes, Draco wandlessly opened the curtains of the window facing the bed, and Eros smiled down at them, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How goes 'it', Drakie?"   
  
"Why won't you let me call you Drakie?" Hermione wondered, with a jealous edge to her voice.   
  
"You can call me whatever you want, Hermione," Draco replied, planting a kiss on the end of her nose. "But you, Eros, I never gave permission for that."   
  
"Come on, Drakes, I think you owe me a little something after what I did for you."   
  
"That's Eros? The god of love?"   
  
"Ah, intelligent one you have there. Smarter than you, anyway." Eros laughed, and Draco heard Hermione cough. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.   
  
"What are you doing here, Eros?" Draco asked sharply.   
  
"I wanted to see how my little lovebird was doing," the boy in the window replied, making a motion as though pinching Draco's cheek. At the same moment, Draco felt his cheek pinched.   
  
Draco almost rose, before he realized that if he attacked Eros he would break the window. He settled back down, growing more sour by the second. "So why did you take so long to come by?"   
  
"Hey, you're not the only people in love in the world. Stop thinking about yourself. I have many other people to take care of. Anyway, so how are you lovebirds, then?"   
  
"In love," Hermione said.   
  
"Obviously," Eros replied. "Well, go on. I have to make sure you're telling the truth."   
  
"Our rings aren't enough proof?" Draco said, holding up his hand.   
  
"Well, fine. But I want to test something."   
  
"What? Why can't you just leave us alone?" Draco again fought the urge to punch the young immortal.   
  
"Just give her a little kiss, and I will."   
  
Sighing, Draco kissed Hermione, softly and deeply at once, then pulled away. He returned her smile before confronting Eros again.   
  
"Now will you leave?"   
  
"Nope."   
  
"You said you would leave if I kissed her!"   
  
"Oh, yes, I know. But I never said *when* I would leave." A smirk played on his lips as he seemed to settle down to watch them. Draco closed the curtains again, blocking him from view.   
  
Draco and Hermione talked for a while, about anything they could think of. Periodically they would hear muffled sighs, which continued long after they had settle down to sleep. Suddenly, Draco heard from the direction of the window, "Ah, young love."   
  
With a surge of annoyance, Draco threw a pillow at the window. "Shut up!"   
  
Hermione, ever-resourceful, put a Silencing Charm on the window when Eros did not do as Draco requested.   
  
"Thanks, sweetie," he said, kissing her.   
  
"Anytime, googly-bear."   
  
End Chapter 41  
  
Sigh. Young Love. Well, seeing as a few people commented on Cupid/Eros, I would expect those same people to enjoy this chapter…  
  
Be prepared for a short and very odd chapter 42.   
  
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	43. The Empathy Solution

Chapter 42- The Empathy Solution  
  
After adding the kneazle skin, Hermione stirred the potion five times counter clockwise and set the stirrer aside.   
  
Draco entered and sniffed the air. "Are you making a stew for lunch?"   
  
"No," she smiled. "It's an Empathy Solution."   
  
"What, the one we read about in Potions?"   
  
"Yes, that's the one."   
  
"Were you going to tell me that you were making it?"   
  
"When it was done."   
  
"That's not giving me much choice in the matter, now is it?"  
  
"Well, your choice would have been to take it anyway, I just cut out the long conversation we would have had before I made it."   
  
"Is it done yet?" Draco sighed.   
  
"Almost. It needs another…seventeen seconds."   
  
Seventeen seconds later, Hermione removed the cauldron from the heat of the fire. She sniffed cautiously at the potion to be met with the heady scent of a lilac bush. She had not been aware kneazle skin did that.   
  
Picking the two engraved cups off the mantle, Draco wondered, "So what does this do again?"   
  
"Weren't you paying attention when we read it?"   
  
"Well, I believe I was thinking about you that day. It was just following me proclaiming my undying love for you to Parkinson, and I was a bit distracted at the moment."   
  
Hermione sighed, but smiled at the thought. "It was a good day. The Empathy Solution allows the drinkers to send thoughts to each other at times of heightened emotion. Of course, it is not completely fool-proof, and sometimes the whole thought is not received, or it can be read wrong. It has proven very useful, however, to some wizards in the past."   
  
As she said this, she had ladled some of the fragrant liquid into each of the cups Draco was holding. She gave him one, saying, "Here, drink up."   
  
He linked his arm with hers, and inclined his cup, saying, "Cheers." They both tipped their heads back and drank. Draco made a face. "It's like drinking perfume." But he downed the remaining contents without another complaint.   
  
"It's not so bad," Hermione said. She could not remember ever tasting lilacs, and so had no idea as to their flavor. Now that she did, she did not mind it in the least.   
  
"Where did you get these cups?" Draco asked, eyeing the one in his hand.   
  
"In Hogsmeade. They were hand-engraved one thousand years ago. I got them at a marvelous bargain."   
  
"Why didn't you just buy something useful, like a green Snitch?"   
  
"How is a green Snitch useful?"   
  
"I don't know. I was just wondered what's the point of buying engraved cups when unengraved cups serve the same purpose just as well."   
  
"You have no sense of taste, Draco."   
  
"Of course I do. Mine is just more logical and less *female*."   
  
"I love your style, honey-bubble."   
  
"Of course, when it comes to pet names, I beat you out for style, love."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"I do not respond well to being called *honey-bubble*. Why don't you just call me a normal pet name for once? That I would not mind."   
  
"Oh, but where is the fun in that?"   
  
Draco shook his head, and Hermione smiled. She loved to tease him.   
  
"Do you want to test the potion?" Draco asked.   
  
"How do you mean?" Hermione got the feeling that it was not something she would agree to. Sure enough, Draco waggled his eyebrows and drew her closer.   
  
After sharing a kiss, Hermione pulled away. "I have homework."   
  
"No, you don't. There are two days left of break. You finished your homework before you came back on Christmas Eve, or you did not just call me honey-bubble within the last two minutes."   
  
Hermione smiled at the floor. He knew her too well. She had, in fact, put the finishing touches on her homework her second day at the Burrow.   
  
"What is wrong, then?" Draco's face became serious and concerned.   
  
"You do know what we would have to do to put the Empathy Solution into effect, right? The first time, you need a sudden jolt of emotion, to activate it. The only way we could do that would be…you know."   
  
"So what's wrong with that?"   
  
Hermione shoved him lightly. "You know I want to wait, Draco. I can't have a distraction like that while I'm in school. You shouldn't be wishing for one, either." She turned away, walking to the mantle. "I want to…I don't know. I don't want to find out what would happen if we…this soon."   
  
Draco had put his arms around her from behind. "It's all right, calm down, sweetie. You know I respect your wishes, always. Do you think that has changed?"   
  
"Of course not. You're a wonderful boyfriend."   
  
"Only because you make me wonderful."   
  
Hermione almost cried her happiness aloud. When had she deserved to be loved this much? When she was being teased for her hair and her teeth in Muggle primary school? When she was being teased for her hair and her teeth here, in her earlier years? When she was being a bossy know-it-all, and knew it, but loved to feel smarter than everyone else? She did not think so. "When, then?" She had not meant to ask this aloud, but Fate had another agenda.   
  
"When you befriended me, and stayed friends when you found out that I was your best friends' worst enemy…Hermione, was I yours?"   
  
She was silent. "I don't think so. I don't know if I ever considered you an enemy, really…just a nemesis."   
  
"Isn't that the same thing?"   
  
"No, not at all. A nemesis is a rival whom you cannot beat."   
  
"You think you cannot beat me?"   
  
"Well, there's just that nagging annoyance that you always seem to have the upper hand, no matter the circumstance. You always come out on top, you always have some important advantage."   
  
"Is that true?" Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully.   
  
"Well, yes." Hermione extracted herself from his embrace. "I have something I have to take care of, Draco. Excuse me." She quickly made her way to her bathroom, where she turned on the shower.   
  
For a while she scrubbed at her body with a bar of soap, all of a sudden feeling as though she had a repulsive gaze on her, that tainted her skin. The gaze left abruptly, leaving no proof that she had not imagined the entire thing.   
  
She was surprised when a pair of slit-like red eyes seemed to stare at her from the mirror.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
When Hermione left, Draco was bored immediately. He decided that he would wait on the couch for her, honestly having nothing better to do.   
  
Suddenly, he felt dirty, as though he had just been covered in slimy mud. The urge to wash himself thoroughly caused him to rise from where he sat, and he began to make his way to the bathroom.   
  
As suddenly as the feeling had come, it was gone. Draco had been about to turn on the shower. He stared into the mirror for a while, wondering what had been the cause of the intrusion.   
  
He was startled when a pair of slit-like red eyes seemed to stare back at him from the mirror.   
  
End Chapter 42  
  
Honestly, don't even ask me what this is about. I don't really know. The Empathy Solution comes in handy later, though.   
  
Since so many people asked about the rings, of course I will give you a hint. On the inside of the rings are a bunch of random *letters*. What happened in the first four chapters of the story? (excluding the prologue).   
  
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	44. Belabored by Insomnia

Chapter 43- Belabored by Insomnia  
  
Being the observant Seeker that he was, Harry noticed Hermione's ring immediately upon seeing her. At the time when he and Ron returned, Malfoy was right beside her, apparently having been dragged along to greet her friends. Harry's eyes flickered to Malfoy's hand, where an identical ring to Hermione's was displayed.   
  
Harry schooled his expression, keeping his face in the eager grin that he had adopted upon meeting Hermione in the front hall. He wondered briefly what Ron would say if he found out that Malfoy and Hermione had promise rings.   
  
They had to wait a minute and a half while Hermione exclaimed over Ginny's hair. Her highlights had been changed to a deep bloodred, which contrasted with her fiery orange in a very unique way. Ginny gave all credit for the color to Harry. -which he deserved, he admitted to himself reluctantly. It was he who had suggested it.   
  
While Hermione followed them to Gryffindor Tower to unpack, Harry did not know where Malfoy went. It did not matter, Harry reflected, as long as he stayed away from Ron. Harry himself had been hoping for the opportunity to talk to Malfoy, explain what he felt about the relationship he had formed with his best friend. Ron, however, was a different matter. He was still as stubborn as he had been the previous April. Shaking his head slightly, Harry found himself wondering if Ron would ever just get over it. He pleaded empty-headedness when Ron asked what he had shaken his head about.   
  
Could he and Ron have made promise rings? Probably. They did love each other. He tried to picture what they would look like. Even before they had reached the common room, Harry dismissed this thought. It was not for them. Harry did not know why, but they would never do something so magically binding in terms of their relationship. Maybe because they felt like they should be bound only by their emotions, and not any artifact.   
  
Still, he couldn't help imagining a ring on his finger, one that symbolized Ron's love for him. It would not hurt to have something to remind him when they were apart…because no matter what they said, they would not be able to see each other every day once they left school. Harry had been avoiding the subject in his mind, but it lingered there in his subconscious all the time. Their last year of school was half over. They had only a few months before they had to grow up. Not for the first time, Harry wondered where he was going to live once term was over. He could always stay at the Burrow until he found a place…  
  
The familiar sight of his massive four poster was a comfort. He fell on it, face first, suddenly inexplicably exhausted. He groaned when Ron called his name. He never wanted to get up.   
  
Of course, when Ron reminded him that he could come into his room, his private Prefect's room, and sleep there, he sprang up with unmistakable alacrity. In Ron's room, he shed his outer layers of clothing before falling face first onto the bed. He felt the covers being pulled up around him, and a body next to him on the mattress. His skin brushing that of his lover's, he drifted off into welcome blackness.   
  
A dream chased him, and he was drawn into a world where his friends and his family were all alive and happy. They laughed, they talked, without a care in the world, it seemed. Everything was blooming and lush around them, with a cloudless blue sky stretching overhead. Harry wished life in the waking world could be the same for them.   
  
Something disrupted the purity of this dream world, though Harry could not tell what. He did know that the sky was all of a sudden an oppressive gray, and the world around him grew cold and icy. Worst of all, the people in it, all the people he loved, were now sprawled lifeless on the ground. And then he realized the cause of the death of everything that was so beautiful. It was himself.   
  
He sat up in bed as quickly as he didn't know how, shaking. He was covered in a warm-yet-cold sweat. Ron, sleeping beside him, without warning placed a hand on his bare back. Harry flinched away before recognizing the touch.   
  
Ron's soothing voice relaxed him enough to lie back down. He looked into his blue eyes, willing him to see what he had seen, for he would not speak of it. He would never speak it aloud. Ron wrapped Harry in his arms, and for a while he was comforted, and he was able to empty his mind of all thought.   
  
But the dream chased him even waking. Would Sirius, his mother and father, Cedric, Seamus's father, would they be alive if not for him? He had no doubts. He had always been the one Voldemort wanted, ever since he was born. So why didn't they all just get out of the way and let the bastard have him?   
  
Talking to Hermione was pretty much a lost cause. They hardly saw her without her boyfriend, and when they did, she only reinforced the importance of studying for N.E.W.T.s. The teachers seemed to be in the same frame of mind; they were piling on homework, essays, and practical lessons like never before. And while Harry knew that it was important to study, he couldn't find the motivation to do it: especially since they had their match with Slytherin in a few months. It was to be the last game of the season.   
  
Apparently, someone thought he did not need the distraction of Quidditch "so close to N.E.W.T.s".   
  
A few days after they returned for the second semester, Ron came into the Great Hall for breakfast grinning like there was no tomorrow. He had borrowed Hermione's *Daily Prophet*, and he placed in on the table beside Harry. Finally they both knew what the Slytherins were laughing at.   
  
And when Harry saw the article on the front page, he burst out laughing as well. In quite overlarge letters, the title of the most pressing article was as follows:   
  
The Boy Who Lived To Be Gay   
  
Following this amusing headline was an article with about three paragraphs on Ron and Harry themselves, and about fifteen that were speculation as to how and why they got together. Harry's fourth year "romance" with Hermione was brought up numerous times.   
  
Throughout the whole day, Harry and Ron would periodically catch each other's eye, and turn away so they would not burst out laughing and disrupt the class. Several teachers noted their strange behavior, but said nothing. They had all seen the newspaper as well. In fact, Professor Flitwick gave them both knowing smiles and made some comment about news articles concerning Harry becoming a trend, and they had to work even harder to contain their utter amusement.   
  
Other teachers, Snape for one- the only one really- were not so lenient. During Potions, Dean passed a picture of a very surprised Rita Skeeter watching Ron and Harry kissing to them. Harry could not prevent his short laugh from escaping, and Snape whirled on him. Being the hard-ass he was, he gave Harry a detention for that Friday night.   
  
Harry was most amused at dinner that day, when he received a surprising number of disappointed fan letters from teenage girls. A few of them even asked him to give them a chance, saying they were sure they could change his mind. Harry showed them to Ron, and told him that he never wanted to be straight to begin with. At which point Ron laughed into his stew, spraying Neville, sitting across the table. With an apologetic grin, Ron handed him a napkin.   
  
That night, when Harry was somehow alone in the room he shared with the three other seventh year boys who were not prefects, he found himself staring at the mirror Sirius had given him. If he used it, would Sirius be able to speak to him? His godfather had told him that he was able to communicate with Harry *because* of the mirror, but he had never said they would be able to speak *through* it. Of course, he had not said they wouldn't either. But Harry wasn't sure he wanted to risk trying, calling to Sirius through the mirror, and getting no response. How would he feel if that happened? Abandoned, probably. Sorrowful, yes. Angry- well, he didn't really want to find out. Two years ago, whenever he had been angry, he had yelled at his friends, and when Sirius died, he had proceeded to break numerous gadgets in Dumbledore's office. Harry asked himself if he wanted to repeat something along those lines, and he found the answer to be no. Sighing, he tucked the mirror into a drawer, underneath a pile of folded shirts.   
  
Long after Ron had fallen asleep that night, Harry lay awake next to him. Why insomnia had to hit him that night, specifically, he had no idea, but it aggravated him. Ron's snoring, which usually he found amusing, irritated him, grating on his nerves. He had to get out of the room.   
  
He tried first the Gryffindor common room, but wouldn't you know it, Ginny and Seamus were snogging on the couch. Harry then locked himself in the bathroom, but the mirror's opinionated commentary annoyed him more than he could have described.   
  
All other options lost, Harry retrieved his Invisibility Cloak and left Gryffindor Tower.  
  
He wandered aimlessly through the corridors, having nowhere to go but too restless to keep in one place. He barely looked where he was going. As a result, he walked right into the only other person who happened to be awake and roaming the halls. It was Aunt Petunia, and she was frightened slightly at not being able to see what she had bumped into. Harry took down his hood for a moment to ease her mind, and he was told off for breaking curfew.   
  
*You'd think your own aunt would give you a break, but no. Everyone's against you right now. Ah well, it's only to be expected, eh? I mean, it's the middle of your seventh year. This is supposed to be the worst time of your life.*   
  
When Harry realized what he had just said, he thought he must be delirious at that moment. Sighing, he returned to the dorm to listen to Ron's snoring.   
  
End Chapter 43   
  
And there you HAVE it. Twenty house points to anyone who can tell me why this chapter is different. Please specify your house.   
  
Okay, I suppose I'll have to explain the promise ring thing better. Promise rings take the form of something that is important to the couple. Now, why would *letters* be important to Hermione and Draco? Oh, come on. If you don't have it by now I think that's kind of sad. *Letters.* Fine, if you really really still don't get it, email me and I'll tell you.   
  
Purple polka dot confetti for reviewers! 


	45. The NotSoBad Detention

Chapter 44- The Not-So-Bad Detention  
  
"Stupid bloody Snape. He gave you detention today just to be an ass."   
  
Harry offered a small, sarcastic smile of agreement to Ron's comment. He undid the first two buttons of his shirt before turning to face him. "He does everything just to be an ass. That's why he makes us skin bats and pull the eyelids off mice for detention. Listen, you can stand in as captain for today's practice, right? I wish I could be there. I've missed more practices than any other team member, and I'm the bloody head of the team."   
  
"Well, you need the least practice, Harry," Ron smiled. "Sure I can."   
  
"Great. I'll see you later." Harry left Ron's room after stealing a quick kiss.   
  
He was nervous on his way to the dungeons- mostly because Snape had not given him a detention for some time now, and he was probably ecstatically planning some horrible torture, like redoing all of his own Potions essays since first year, or cleaning Neville's cauldron. Still, he strode purposefully to Snape's office, and he knocked purposefully on the door when he got there.   
  
"Come in!" the brisk, sneering call came. Somehow, Harry was slightly comforted by the sound. It was the same as always.   
  
He was made a bit nervous by the sly smirk Snape almost managed to hide before he replaced the sneer on his face. "Better roll up your sleeves, Potter. You're cleaning cauldrons today."   
  
Harry looked to the indicated pile. It was rather large. *Wonderful.*   
  
"Except Longbottom's. It melted two hours ago."   
  
Harry restrained his sigh of relief as he went to work on the cauldrons. Really, it wasn't that much worse than cleaning pots at the Dursley's- thank Merlin he'd never have to do *that* again- as long as you were careful not to touch the sides with your bare skin.   
  
*Anyway, he could have had me doing something much worse, like disemboweling monkerjoles, or straining armadillo bile. This is something I'm used to, something I can do without vomiting- usually. As long as Neville has nothing to do with it, I can handle it.*   
  
What Harry was not prepared to handle was the unexpected long period of the evening where Snape left. However, he by no means left Harry alone.   
  
"Ah, Malfoy, right on time. Potter, you'll be supervised by Malfoy until I return. I am afraid I have urgent business with the headmaster. I trust you will not miss me unbearably. Don't wait up."   
  
Harry pursed his lips tightly until Snape left, at which point curses rained upon the absent Potions master. Why, oh why, did he have to leave Malfoy in charge of him?   
  
"Language, Potter. Though I do think 'greasy bat' is a rather accurate description, teachers do not often take kindly to being called insufferable bastards."   
  
Why *Malfoy*? What had he done to deserve this? Well…though reluctant to admit it, he did not really mind Malfoy anymore- well, not as much. But he knew Malfoy would not act any differently toward him. Or would he?   
  
Well, he *was* different, Harry supposed, to be dating Hermione. But still. Even this new side of Malfoy wasn't likely to treat his worst school enemy any better than usual.   
  
Of course, Hermione had told him that Draco would listen if he tried to talk. She might just be defending her boyfriend, but she might also be trying to get Harry to get along with him. She had certainly done her best to get him and Ron to accept Draco- wait, why was he now referring to him as *Draco*? Damn it. Hermione's influence, without a doubt.   
  
Harry looked up from scrubbing for a moment to find Malfoy watching him thoughtfully, perched casually on one of the desks. He was careful not to let it show that he was affected by this in any way. Or so he thought…or he tried to be…*Fine, so now I can't stop looking at Malfoy because he was looking at me. What the hell?…Well, yes, he is attractive, but I don't care, I'm in love with Ron…shit. I just called Malfoy attractive.*   
  
"Why do you hate me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, in a startlingly serious move.   
  
"Because you're a prick." At his next glance, Malfoy was staring at a spot on the wall behind him. Well, maybe it was more than a glance…he narrowed his eyes as he watched Malfoy, and he saw something he never expected to see in the other boy's face. He was being serious.   
  
Harry sighed. If Malfoy was actually making an effort, then he should at least tell the truth. Here it went. "I don't."   
  
"Sure, that explains your behavior to me in the last…let's see, six and a half years?"   
  
Harry realized that he had just been scrubbing the same spot for the past five minutes, and scowling, moved on to another cauldron. "I'm being serious, here."   
  
"I don't see why I should believe you."   
  
"Come on, do you really think I'm stupid?" Harry exclaimed, standing and forgetting completely about the cauldrons.   
  
Malfoy's mouth curled up in one corner. "Well, not as stupid as Weasley…"   
  
Harry stiffened. "Careful, Malfoy."   
  
Malfoy cleared his throat. "Sorry. You were saying?"   
  
Harry's eyebrows did something quite odd- he could not have described what it looked like, because he was sure he had never seen the expression before. Had Malfoy just apologized for insulting a Gryffindor?   
  
So it seemed. Slightly disconcerted, Harry said, "Well, yes. All right. Listen, I know Hermione. She's not the type to go for Death Eaters, and you wouldn't have been able to trick her into liking you. No, you wouldn't Malfoy." He had just opened his mouth as if to protest. "If you think you could, you underestimate her."   
  
"No, I don't underestimate Hermione. And I wouldn't have wanted to trick her."   
  
"Ah. Well, that's good. Anyway, I was saying that if she has taken to you so fervently, you must not be as bad as we always thought."   
  
Malfoy seemed to be considering this. "I suppose I'm not quite that bad," he replied. "At least there's *one* Gryffindor besides Hermione who possesses some logic. But tell me, if you don't hate me, why have you been completely less than friendly to me since you found out about us?"   
  
"What the hell? What kind of question is that? Haven't you noticed the lack of open hostility? I figured as long as you didn't start anything, then we wouldn't have any problems."   
  
"Unless, that is, Weasley starts something."   
  
Harry shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not sure what to do about Ron."   
  
"It seems you say that a lot. I mean, that you're not sure of things."   
  
"Malfoy, what is your problem? I'm trying to be…not mean here, and all you can do is insult me. Instead of cooperating for *once*, you have to make things difficult."   
  
"How do you figure *I'm* the one making things difficult? I'd say it's *your* boyfriend."   
  
"Well, if you hadn't started dating Hermione, none of this stuff would be necessary. Our relationship would be clearly defined as enemies. Now- now I don't know what we are." Harry shook his head again, slower this time. "We can't be enemies. I respect Hermione too much to hate you. Or to cause trouble. You saw what happened the last time Ron tried to kill you. He hit Hermione."   
  
"Oh, that, yes. What a prat. She was fine, by the way, she only wanted to make Weasley sorry for being such an idiot."   
  
"If you don't stop insulting my boyfriend, I might have to eat my words, Malfoy."   
  
"Well, it's hard not to. He's just such an easy target…I'm kidding! I don't want to be enemies any more than you do. He just doesn't seem to be letting go of past…injuries."   
  
"I know. Believe me, I've been trying. He needs more time, as ridiculous as that may sound."  
  
Malfoy nodded. "I get it, though. It's not like I really care to be friends with him, either. It's not an insult, this time. I don't particularly want to be friends with you at this point."   
  
"So are we agreed that we're not enemies?" Harry asked, ignoring the last comment.   
  
After a moment, Malfoy agreed. "But we're not friends."   
  
"No, that will take a bit longer," Harry said wryly. "Maybe in a few years we'll get there."   
  
It was only then that Harry realized how many cauldrons he still had left to do. Thinking along the same lines, Malfoy pointed his wand at the pile, and half of them were clean instantly. For a while neither said anything, staring at the cauldrons.   
  
"You should get back to work. If you aren't scrubbing when Snape gets back, he'll think something's up."   
  
Harry laughed softly. "Yeah. Listen, Malf- Dra- argh! Now I don't even know what to call you. Until we really can be friends- truce?"   
  
He held out his hand tentatively. Malfoy looked from his hand to his face to the door to his hand, and then his own hand. "What about Weasley?"   
  
"I'm working on it," Harry informed him. "I'll make him come around…kind of."   
  
A few more minutes passed. Malfoy stepped forward and took the hand Harry offered, shaking it firmly before releasing it. "Our first civil conversation," he said sarcastically, even though it was true. "This calls for a celebration. This is Rita Skeeter material."   
  
"What's the title this time, The Boy Who Longs For Inter-House Peace?" Harry laughed as he returned to the few cauldrons left in the dirty pile.   
  
"More like The Boy Whose Hands Are Pruny From Washing Cauldrons." Malfoy raised one eyebrow, and his smirk returned. "Or The Boy Who Failed to Control His Friends- or should that be Hormones, I can't decide."   
  
"Malfoy! That's going a little far, seeing as we aren't really friends yet." However, Harry faced away from Malfoy as he scrubbed in order to hide his amused look. "Besides, if anyone can't control their hormones…" He glanced over his shoulder meaningfully.   
  
"No thanks, Potter. I have a girlfriend, remember?"   
  
"Not suggesting anything of the sort, Malfoy. Oh my god. I just got a mental picture. Bad image! Oh, yuck! Mental rape, help help!"   
  
"Get a grip, Potter. And not on me, if that's what you're thinking."   
  
"I'm ending our truce at the next suggestion you make of that nature."   
  
"Okay, I'll stop…probably."   
  
Harry looked over his shoulder again, just in time to see Malfoy's wicked grin turn into an attempted innocent expression. Attempted, because he looked nothing near innocent. Harry didn't even think Malfoy *could* look innocent- and he doubted Malfoy thought so.   
  
"Yeah, you're right. I should just stick to what I'm good at," Malfoy shrugged. He took to twirling his wand between his fingers.   
  
Snape returned about an hour later, when Harry was just about finished- only one cauldron to go. Malfoy left then, at Snape's request, and Harry scrubbed as fast as he could. After having a surprisingly enjoyable detention, he did not want it to be ruined by an extended period of time in the presence of the very man he had been insulting a few hours ago.   
  
"Go on then, Potter," Snape leered at him when finally he had finished. Gratefully, Harry hurried from the dungeons. He needed a shower.   
  
"Hey, Potter!" a voice beckoned him into the nearest classroom. It was a very familiar voice- and now, not a completely unpleasant one to hear.   
  
"What, Malfoy?" Harry inquired as he entered, stopping just inside the door.   
  
"Well, this is all well and good, but…do you mind not telling Weasley? I doubt he'd be happy about it, and I'd rather not acquire a stalker for the last months of my Hogwarts career. Until he's…gotten over it, just keep this between us, all right?"   
  
"No problem, Malfoy. Anyway, he might get jealous, me talking to other boys. Even if it's you." Harry attempted an evil grin- attempted, because he knew he didn't look evil. Malfoy gave him a rather patronizing look. "You're right," Harry sighed. "I should just stick to what I'm good at."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
As Draco returned to his dormitory, he continuously paused in his steps, and shook his head quickly, as though banishing unwanted thoughts. This he did not mind overly much; it was the reason for it that was a bit disconcerting.   
  
He was now officially not enemies with Harry Potter. He never thought he would see the day. How long would it be before they were actually…friends? He shuddered at the thought.   
  
Just his luck, he shuddered right as he entered the dorm, and Hermione happened to be studying for N.E.W.T.s- no surprise there- on the couch. She, of course, noticed. "What's wrong, Draco?"   
  
"A truce with Harry Potter, that's what," he sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. This *inevitable* was that Hermione would always know what was going on.   
  
Instead of looking shocked, she smiled widely down at her notes. "Way to go, Harry," she murmured.   
  
"What was that?" He was now very close to her, and was gratified when she jumped. He prided himself on his ability to sneak up behind people.   
  
"The last time I talked to Harry, I told him to try to at least be not-hostile to you, and noticeably, so you two could start to be friends. I'm quite tired of this bickering grudge you three hold against each other. Of course, I know Ron is not the best place to start. You have insulted him *more* than Harry, in case you haven't noticed-"   
  
"You think there wasn't a reason for that?" Draco interrupted. At her look, he said, "Sorry, I was just trying to get you to shut up. You were right…huh, I should have suspected…and here I was thinking Potter was extending the hand of friendship all on his own…"   
  
"I think he would have, eventually," Hermione said, opening another book and scanning the index. "He just needed a little push, in order for it to happen in reasonable time."   
  
"And you, of course, are the only one who could have pushed him hard enough," Draco muttered. "…Or me."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron was slightly worried about what had happened that night. "Come on, Harry, please, tell me what you did. Nobody comes out of a detention with Snape smiling like that…except Malfoy, but he's never had a detention with Snape that I know of. Harry, please, you have no idea how much you're freaking me out."   
  
Harry just shook his head. "Sorry, Ron. It's confidential."   
  
"You were cheating, weren't you? I knew this would happen eventually," Ron moaned miserably.   
  
"Ron, you idiot, I love you. Why would I cheat? I would only do it if you did, to make you jealous."   
  
"I'd never cheat on you. Cheat? That's not even in my vocabulary." Ron knew he sounded nervous, but he could not help it. Like he said. *Nobody* comes out of detention with Snape smiling like that…or smiling, period. Something had to have happened.   
  
"Fine then," Ron said. He proceeded to seal off his room, finishing with a Silencing Charm. "I'll have to suck it out of you."   
  
Harry pretended to protest, but his eager smile gave him away. Ron reached into the box of Every Flavor Condoms once again. "Maybe this time the flavor will be okay."   
  
End Chapter 44   
  
Umm, leftover Jack Sparrow-shaped confetti- (from another fic) to reviewers. 20 points to Hufflepuff, good job Sarah. That's all I have to say right now. 


	46. Oh, The Pink Frilliness Of It All

Chapter 45- Oh, The Pink Frilliness Of It All  
  
"Why did I let her talk me into this?" Draco moaned, face in hands. He sat on the couch in his and Hermione's common room, elbows on knees.   
  
"Don't worry too much about it," Harry said, trying ineffectively to alleviate Draco's completely warranted concern. "You probably didn't know what you were agreeing too. With Hermione, sometimes it's hard to tell."   
  
"She clouded my mind with kisses! Damn women and their seductive ways!"   
  
They were sitting across from each other. Harry was trying to help Draco figure out how Hermione had done it, but Draco was not helping at all, just whining. And he knew it. But he could not help it, after what she did.   
  
It was official- the worst thing that could have happened to him had now happened.   
  
Hermione had convinced him to have a Valentine's Day ball.   
  
"But really, it won't be *that* bad, Malfoy."   
  
Draco's head came up, and he stared at Harry incredulously. "*Not* that *bad*, Potter? Are you out of your mind? Do you know what Valentine's Day balls are like?"   
  
"Well, they can't really be much different from all those other balls…"   
  
"Oh, you poor naïve homosexual. You really have no idea." Draco shook his head pityingly. *He* certainly wasn't going to be the one to tell him. "Oh, fine! The short version, though. If I tell you the details I'm pretty sure I'll vomit. A Valentine's Day ball is very much like another ball. However, every thing is *pink*, and everyone is *mushy*. And you have to have a date to go. It's just the way it works."   
  
Harry appeared to be waiting for something. "What's so bad about that?"   
  
Draco's head went back into his hands.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"I can't believe I actually convinced him," Hermione told Ginny as they sorted through the rack of robes at Gladrags'. It was the day after they had agreed on the ball, and the very same day that Draco was complaining to Harry. "I don't know how I did it."   
  
"You probably clouded his mind with kisses," Ginny suggested, shrugging. She grinned. "Vixen."   
  
"If anyone's a vixen, it's you, Ginny. You and your plans to get Seamus in bed."   
  
"Shh! Hermione!" Ginny whispered in alarm. "You *know* how rumors spread around here. I don't want people to know until we've actually *done* something."   
  
Smiling, Hermione looked down at the robe she currently held in her hands. It was velvet of a pretty green hue. "What do you think of this one?" She held it up for the other girl to see.   
  
Ginny cocked her head to the side as she scrutinized it. "Too plain," she said. "Come on, I'll make you a robe that will turn every head. And I do mean every."   
  
Hermione willingly let Ginny take measurements, pin up fabric- miraculously avoiding turning her into a pincushion in the process- whatever she needed to do to make her this alleged head-turning robe. While she worked, they talked, planning the decorations.   
  
"Why didn't you ask Lavender and Parvati to help you? They're very Valentine's-minded."   
  
"Are you kidding?" Hermione almost shuddered, but she did not want to be pricked. "Do you have any idea how- how *pink* and *frilly* it would be? I can usually stand that pretty well, but not if it's covering the Great Hall, and not if I have to look at it for hours on end."   
  
Ginny glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "Why did you tell Draco you asked them, then?"   
  
Hermione grinned. "I just wanted to bug him. I'm just picturing all the horrors of incredible mushiness he must be expecting to appear in the Great Hall on Valentine's."  
  
"You're evil, Hermione."   
  
"Well, I learned from the best."   
  
"Draco?"   
  
"No, you."   
  
They both giggled for five minutes, Hermione because she was joking, Ginny because she knew it was true. "Well, I am glad you asked me," Ginny said, once they had recovered. "I'm honored to help. Between the two of us, Valentine's Day might actually be tasteful this year."   
  
Smirking in a Dracoesque fashion, Hermione argued. "As long as your tastes have improved over the last few years. We don't need any more Valentines comparing lover's eyes to toads-"   
  
"Hermione, that was mean! Anyway, Harry's the only one with eyes the color of fresh pickled toads, and NO one would be stupid enough to send him a Valentine this year. Ron would kill them- plus, they saw how embarrassed I was about that. They wouldn't want it to happen to them."   
  
"Well, I'm glad people learned from that experience. It would have been a horrible waste if all that happened was a good joke and a very red Weasley." Hermione smiled innocently when Ginny glared up at her.   
  
They talked a bit more about the decorations. Hermione favored red over pink, since red was less revolting to certain males, not to mention it being the color of love and passion. Ginny suggested white, to make the Great Hall seem brighter. They decided together that touches of pink would be added to accent the occasion, but they would *not* turn into Parvati and Lavender. Then, just before Ginny finished, Hermione asked her opinion on dim candle lighting for the night.   
  
"Yes, that would be romantic," Ginny smiled. Her dreamy expression turned amused quickly. "All right, it's finished. Look in the mirror."   
  
Hermione eagerly stepped in front of the mirror, which began to laugh immediately. Hermione stared in horror. "Ginny, what the hell is this! And when did you put a bonnet on me?!"   
  
Taking into account the lace, the bows, and the bonnet, Hermione looked not unlike Little Miss Muffet.   
  
Ginny was holding her stomach laughing. After several warnings from Hermione, she managed to recover enough to gasp, "I'm just kidding, that's not the one. I was getting you back for before, the toad thing." She waved her wand. "Here, there's the real one."   
  
Hermione turned again. The mirror immediately stopped laughing. So did Ginny, for that matter. As for Hermione herself, she could not stop smiling.   
  
"Oh, *Ginny*! It's beautiful!"   
  
"It was my pleasure, believe me. I just hope Draco isn't wearing black. Then you guys would be *all* black. That's so tacky."   
  
"No it isn't. It's elegant."   
  
"Tacky."   
  
"What are you wearing, Ginny?" Hermione changed the subject.   
  
Smiling suggestively, Ginny answered, "That's for me to know, and for everyone else to find out. It's only three days. On Wednesday night, you'll see what I'm wearing."   
  
Clothes aside, Ginny and Hermione spent the next three hours planning for the ball.   
  
"How are we going to get all this stuff?" Ginny wondered suddenly. "Normally I'd suggest borrowing it from people around the castle, but I doubt you'd agree to that. And I don't think we're going to find what we need in Hogsmeade."   
  
"Ginny, haven't you realized yet the best thing about our headmaster? He can get anything he wants."   
  
"Or anything we want," Ginny added, flashing a grin.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"How did I let her talk me into this?!"   
  
He was pacing in front of the fire this time, restlessly taking a few steps one way or the other. Harry was sitting on the couch, watching him with amusement. Draco glared at him periodically, which only served to lighten Harry's mood.   
  
"Only three days, too. Three days to plan! I mentioned it, and you know what she said? 'Don't worry about it, you don't have to lift a finger. I'll get Parvati and Lavender to help me.' Argh! Oh, the pink frilliness of it all!"   
  
"Malfoy, seriously. Get a grip. You're going a little crazy here. It's just a ball."   
  
"Oh, you can talk! You *like* this stuff, remember Potter? You like *balls*."   
  
Harry grinned, to Draco's surprise. "Yes, I do. And now I know for *sure* that Ron is a natural redhead…and Ginny."   
  
"Ugh, ew, too much information, Potter! Keep your little sex-capades to yourself, thank you." Draco managed to hold in most of his shudder.   
  
"So why don't you go and help her plan? Then you can be sure it won't be too," Harry leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "*Pink* and *Frilly*."   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't, then she'll think I don't trust her."   
  
"Do you?"   
  
"Yes, but come on! She's female, of course she's going to make Valentine's Day extremely prissy-looking. That's what they do."   
  
"Let me ask you something. You and Hermione were together last Valentine's Day. What did you do?"   
  
"Well, we basically made out in the Room of Requirement…"   
  
"Did Hermione ask for anything pink, or lacy, or frilly?"   
  
"No…"   
  
"You worry too much, you paranoid prat."   
  
"Oh, thanks. Comforting." Draco felt slightly better. Hermione did not seem to favor pink frills…however, if she was planning with the Patil girl and Lavender Brown, he had no doubt that pink frills would be somewhere in the decorations equation. It was quite a disturbing thought.   
  
An even more disturbing thought, when it occurred to him, was that Harry Potter was in his common room, acting as though they were- they were- friends. Of course, they weren't, they were just not enemies. Only, mere not enemies were not usually privileged with this type of confidence- not in his experience.   
  
Were they, in fact, against their better judgment, against their wishes even, becoming friends? Were they starting to like each other?   
  
No. It was impossible…right?   
  
Draco debated silently voicing these thoughts to Harry. He also debated why he called him Harry in his mind, and Potter aloud. Why didn't he just call him "Potter" all the time? He could not answer. In the end, he decided that he wouldn't tell him. It wasn't as if they were *friends*.   
  
"Anyway, if you're that worried about it, Malfoy, just don't go."   
  
"Don't *go*? Are you kidding? Hermione would kill me!"   
  
Speak of…Hermione, and she enters. Again.   
  
"I'm glad to know you two have been getting along," she smiled. Draco attempted a scowl, but it was half-hearted. Frankly, he was somewhat relieved to be getting on with Harry himself.   
  
"What's that you're carrying?" Draco asked, pointing to the bundle under her arm.   
  
"It's a secret," she said. Smiling innocently, she disappeared into her corridor. Against his expectation, she did not return for a few minutes. Harry and Draco sat awkwardly in their places, not commenting for fear Hermione would hear them.   
  
"Girlfriends," Draco murmured. "You live with them, and you can't ever have a private conversation. It's incredibly annoying, you'll find. Once you've live with your girlfriend for a while, Potter, you'll see what I mean. You'll be dying to get out of the house…dorm…whatever."   
  
"It will be a little different for me, though," Harry said, his mouth turning up at the corners. "My girlfriend will be a guy."   
  
A few moments of silence lapsed by, and Harry got up to leave. "I'll see you later, mate."   
  
It took them both until he had almost left to realize what he just said. When they had, they looked at each other in surprise for a second. "Tell you what. It never happened, okay?" Draco suggested. "You never said it. You said 'I'll see you later, Malfoy'. Nothing unusual there."   
  
Harry nodded firmly, then with a small wave he exited. Draco blew out a sigh of relief, which Hermione caught as she reentered the common room.   
  
End Chapter 45  
  
To anonymous reviewer "ur lover" from chapter 20- If you expect me to believe what you said, then you'll have to email me (Plaidlylush@aol.com). I'm waiting.   
  
To KittieSpit411- Thank you. You have restored my faith in the readers of this story.   
  
Now for a typical author's note. You people need to stop asking me to change the plot, in any way or form. If you don't like it, go write your own freaking story.   
  
No, Harry does not fall for Draco. Does this look like a Harry/Draco fic to you? I didn't think so.   
  
Well, I'm pretty sure that's all I have to say about all this. Review for pink frilly confetti. Or, if you don't like pink frilly confetti, review anyway and you can use it to take compromising pictures of people. 


	47. The Horror of Valentine's Day

Chapter 46- The Horror of Valentine's Day  
  
For the past three days, Hermione reflected, she had been surprisingly cruel to Draco. She couldn't help it, though. It was rather cute the way his left eye twitched whenever she mentioned the ball.   
  
Smiling to herself, she stood in front of the mirror in her dress robes. They were black, and the material was somewhat sheer, but did not show too much. It was not exactly body-hugging, but it did hang beautifully on her hips. The neckline was as low as she would let Ginny make it, with an elegant keyhole. It sat a few inches from off the shoulder. The sleeves were long and fitted, with embroidery of curling vines in jet. They came to a point over her hand.   
  
With a wave of her wand, she pinned her hair up elegantly, leaving a few strategically placed curls to flow loosely at the back of her head. Another wave gave her smoky eye makeup and a sheer, iridescent lipstick. Smiling again at the mirror, she slid into her simple but pretty black shoes and left for the common room.   
  
For once, she had to wait for Draco. He exited his corridor in velvet robes of deep red trimmed in black. She saw the worry in his face, knowing that it was about the mushiness he expected, and smiled.   
  
"Shall we go, muffincake?" Hermione prompted, slipping her arm through his. She could see him bite back his remark. She successfully held her smile in place, not letting it grow wider or smaller, but pasted on to mask her delight at Draco's horror of Valentine's Day.   
  
"Isn't this exciting, honeybunchcakenesskins?" Hermione sighed as he escorted her down the hall. "I can't wait to dance with you."   
  
She was sure she could hear Draco restraining a gag, and pursed her lips to seal in a giggle. She would have to remember that name for later. *Honeybunchcakenesskins…I'm getting pretty good at this.*  
  
His face grew more worried with every step, and Hermione's more eager. When finally they entered the Great Hall, Draco's worry disappeared. He took in the tastefully romantic decorations, the couples dancing and talking and sitting, and the display of desserts.   
  
"It's not all…pink and…frilly. But how?"   
  
Hermione grinned when he looked at her. "Oh, come on. Do you *really* think I would have asked those two to help me with it? I had Ginny help me plan the decorations."   
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"   
  
"Oh, that wouldn't have been any fun. Let's dance."   
  
Without waiting for a response, she pulled him to the middle of the floor. His right hand went to her waist, and his left took up her right. She placed her left hand on his shoulder.   
  
Draco had switched his promise ring to his left hand, so their rings would touch when they held hands. Hermione glanced at the adornments and smiled. It had been only a month and a half since they made the rings, but it felt like forever. They had always been connected, it seemed.   
  
They twirled in place, slowly and synchronically moving in time to the music. Hermione paid attention to nothing around her, feeling his presence too strongly to be aware of anything else. She was lost in him, and she could feel him supporting her with his entire being. It was absolute bliss, dancing with him there.   
  
Sometime later, she would wonder what people thought when they saw the Head Boy and Girl dancing together, looking at each other in purest love. She wondered how surprised everyone looked when they thought about the unlikely relationship. At that moment, however, none of the other students existed.   
  
"Hermione."   
  
"Mmm?"   
  
"I've been meaning to ask you something."   
  
"Ask me anything."   
  
"Well…I was wondering if, after the year ends, you know, during the summer or something, you wanted to come…uh, come to London. And stay with me."   
  
"Are you asking me to live with you, Draco?" she prompted, suddenly as alert as she could be.   
  
"Well, I…ah, yes."   
  
A smile split her face, and she pulled him down and clung tightly to his neck. "Of course. I would be happy anywhere if it were with you." They stayed that way for a long time. Although she could not see him, she knew a grin was pasted onto his face. *Draco Malfoy, grinning. Now this is a front-page story.*   
  
"I'm really sorry to interrupt, guys," Ron's voice came. Draco and Hermione pulled apart. Surprisingly enough, Ron actually did look sorry.   
  
"What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked, sending a be-nice look to Draco.   
  
"Have either of you seen Harry?"   
  
"Do we look like we've been watching Potter all night?" Draco snorted. He cleared his throat then, before Hermione had the chance to step on his foot. "Sorry. What I mean is, we haven't really been paying attention."   
  
"Why, don't you know where he is?" Hermione asked concernedly.   
  
"Well, he went to the bathroom, but that was at least half an hour ago."   
  
"I thought girls always went to the bathroom together," Draco said innocently. Hermione thought Ron's glower looked forced, though she could have been imagining it…  
  
"Anyway, I checked the bathroom, but he wasn't there. I'm not sure where to look."   
  
Hermione glanced up at Draco, who looked uncharacteristically worried. "Are you sure you don't know where he is?" he asked.   
  
"No idea."   
  
"Well," Draco said, "We should probably find him, you know the kind of trouble he somehow manages to get into."   
  
The three of them left the Hall, making for Gryffindor Tower. Hermione led the way. "What are we doing, Hermione?" Ron asked. "I don't think he would have gone back to the dorm without me."   
  
"Well, chances are he's still on school grounds. We can use the marauder's map to find him, right? He doesn't carry it around with him, does he?"   
  
"No, usually he leaves it in the room- Manticoris." The fat lady swung out to allow them to enter.   
  
Ron went to Harry's room to find the map. Hermione would have followed, but Draco pulled her back by the arm. "Nothing's happened that we can't take care of, right? I mean, he's not in any real trouble or anything?"   
  
"Why, Draco, I'm amazed. You're acting like you *care* about Harry?"   
  
"Me, care about Potter? You must be…damn it. I think you're right. Ugh, we've just become not enemies and now suddenly we're friends? What is the world coming to?" He hit his forehead. For need of a new subject, he looked around. "So this is the Gryffindor common room. Cozy…and entirely too red and gold." He sat. "Though I do like this couch. Good for snogging, I would assume."   
  
Hermione giggled. "Ginny could tell you. I've seen her snogging Seamus on that couch…"   
  
"Please, no bad mental images for tonight, Hermione."   
  
Ron returned. "I've found it, now we just have to activate it. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."   
  
Suddenly Hogwarts appeared on the parchment, and tiny dots wandered the areas. Most congregated in a miniscule Great Hall, but a few were in other places. Like three labeled Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Draco Malfoy.   
  
"Do you see Harry's anywhere?" Hermione asked. She scanned the parchment many times, but didn't see it.   
  
Draco suddenly pointed. "There," he said. "That's Potter. Can't you read it?"   
  
Hermione squinted. Finally she could just barely make out Harry's name. His dot seemed unusually small. "But where is that? I don't think I've ever seen that part of the school," Malfoy wondered.   
  
"Oh, no," Ron and Hermione said, in an oddly overlapping timing. They exchanged the oddest looks.   
  
"What, where is it?"   
  
"This area here is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione said, pointing.   
  
"Which means that Harry is in the Chamber of Secrets," Ron added.   
  
"What? You mean that place actually *exists*!"   
  
"Yeah, Malfoy, it exists. Disgusting place, really. Well, he hasn't been there for very long. Maybe it's still open. Come on!" Tucking the map into his robes, he sprinted away. Hermione took Draco's hand and followed.   
  
Ron had reached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom before them. He had just resorted to kicking and hitting one of the sinks. "Come on! Open, damn you!! Open!!!!"   
  
"Weasley, what are you doing?" Draco asked, looking wary.   
  
"This is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but you can only get in if you can speak Parseltongue! Damnit, this isn't bloody fair! Let me in!" He tried to rip the sink clean off, but it was connected to sturdily.   
  
"Oh, leave him," an annoying voice said suddenly. "I've been wanting some company, and Harry always said he would visit me if he was a ghost."   
  
"Myrtle, do you know what happened?" Hermione demanded.   
  
"Oh, not exactly. But I do know that Harry is down there, and he doesn't need help from you. Even if he did, you wouldn't be able to get in there, so why bother trying?"   
  
"What do you mean, he doesn't need help?" Ron yelled.   
  
"Well," Myrtle said sweetly, "soon he won't need *anyone's* help. Ghosts rarely do, since they're not alive…"   
  
Ron let a startling yell out, and he went for the sink again. "No! Come- on- you- stupid- bloody- sink!"   
  
"Perhaps I can help you with that," someone said from behind them.   
  
"Sagittus, what are you doing here?" Draco asked suspiciously. "You haven't been following me again, have you?"   
  
"Well, I noticed you had gone, and seeing how happy you were dancing, I knew something had to be happening. Anyway, if you're looking for a Parselmouth, I happen to know one who can be here in no time."   
  
"Who?" Draco's eyebrows had drawn down at this last statement.   
  
Sagittus' mouth quirked in a Malfoyesque smirk. "Me."   
  
He stepped up to the sink, and let out a command in Parseltongue. The sink began to move and the Chamber of Secrets was open. "Be careful down there," Sagittus said. "I hear the basilisk was killed, but who knows what could be down there."   
  
"Uh, thanks. That's really comforting," Ron said, and he jumped into the deep hole.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"Harry, what happened down there?" Ron asked. The four of them were in his room.   
  
Harry shook his head again. "I don't know, all right? I can't remember anything."   
  
"What do you think happened?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised slightly.   
  
"I- well…I'm just not sure. The how is easy enough, but the why is another matter. I wouldn't have gone there on my own. I must have been compelled, because didn't I tell you I was going to the bathroom, Ron? Well, I did." He sighed. "Bloody hell. I really don't know what happened. The only thing is, it had to be someone who speaks Parseltongue. How many people do we know with that talent?"   
  
"Three," Draco replied. "You- and we know you didn't make you do it, Sagittus, and we know he didn't make you do it, and Voldemort. Now, that one is the most likely suspect, I'd say."   
  
"You got that right," Harry muttered. "Well, that makes sense, but how would he get inside the school?"   
  
"Maybe it has something to do with last time," Ron suggested tentatively.   
  
"What do you mean, Ron?"   
  
"He means Ginny," Hermione answered. "Right?"   
  
Ron nodded. In a few moments, they had brought Ginny up to the room. Hermione had to spend about five minutes exclaiming over Ginny's red robes, with its very low neckline and its very body-hugging shape. Then, they finally asked the question.   
  
"I didn't see you at the ball, either," Ron commented. "Is there a chance it might have been you?"   
  
Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully, then pressed her fingers to the sides of her temples. "Yes, it's possible. I don't know if that's what happened, but... Seamus says I disappeared for about two hours, and turned up after Hermione and Draco had left the ball. I guess I told him I would meet him there, and then I was quite late. He asked me where I had been, and I told him I was dressing, and then not to be so impatient. It was then that he told me what time it was. Two whole hours later than I thought."   
  
"I know you don't want to revisit this, Gin," Ron said apologetically, "but in your first year Vol- Voldemort had a tight hold on you. Maybe he hasn't completely let go."   
  
"He could still have enough of a hold to control you, at the right time and place," said Hermione.   
  
Ginny looked at all of them. "I don't know," she said helplessly. "It's almost like I did have a trance, how else would I have lost track of all that time? Harry, I'm sorry."   
  
"Don't apologize. It's not your fault, Ginny."   
  
"I wish there was some way we could figure out what happened, then we could keep it from happening again."   
  
Everyone was silent, all trying to think of a way to make that come true.   
  
Draco shifted. "Well," he began, "there is one way."   
  
End Chapter 46  
  
Ah, another chapter. I'd like to thank most of you for your reviews. There are a few people I do *not* thank, and you probably know who you are.   
  
Merry Holiday! Holiday confetti of your choice. 


	48. Occlumency Again

Chapter 47- Occlumency Again  
  
It was February fifteenth. Four Gryffindors and a Slytherin stood outside Dumbledore's office, waiting for the headmaster to respond to the knock.   
  
Ginny was tapping her foot. "Occlumency was your big idea," she said, irritated. "I'll bet I'll have to take it from Snape. Dumbledore is a great man, but he has no sense of propriety. Honestly, making Harry take those extra classes with *Snape* of all people. The worst thing he could have done, if you ask me."   
  
Draco paid her no attention. The door opened, and he led them in. Dumbledore greeted them. "Well, hello. It's a pleasure to have a visit from my students."   
  
They explained what had happened the night before. "And I thought that if Ginny learned Occlumency, she would be able to block him from entering her mind at all. The other option, I think, would be to perform Legilimency on her until we can reach the source of Voldemort's hold on her mind, but that would be much more dangerous."   
  
"And it took all five of you to tell me this?" A twinkle appeared in the old man's eye.   
  
*He has too much humor to be a headmaster. Although it might be a good thing. The ones without a sense of humor go crazy…like that Umbitch woman,* Draco thought. "Well, it would have been just me, but they all insisted on coming along." He waved a hand in the general direction of all the Gryffindors. "It's a Gryffindor thing, I suppose, being involved in each other's every move."   
  
"Well, I shall have to inform Professor Snape- I'm just so busy at the moment-"   
  
"Actually, sir," Draco cleared his throat, "I was thinking maybe *I* could instruct Ginny."   
  
Dumbledore did not laugh. He looked intrigued, in fact. Draco continued. "Sir, I am a fair Legilimens and quite a good Occlumens, I learned to keep my father from reading my thoughts. I was thinking that maybe this weekend we could have an intensive session, and she could learn enough just to keep Voldemort from taking control again."   
  
The headmaster looked down at his desk, interlocking his fingers pensively. At that point, Draco considered that the man did everything either with extreme pensiveness, extreme humor, extreme anger, or extreme in-between-those. No matter what, it would have to be extreme. This all stemmed from the fact that Draco had not been aware of the capability of interlocking fingers to be pensive.   
  
"Do you really believe you can do it?" he asked at last.  
  
*I suppose I should be moved by your faith.* "Yes. And I would like to help these- Gryffindors very much." Because they obviously weren't going to be able to do it themselves.   
  
"Well then, Mister Malfoy, you may proceed as you see fit. Is there anything you need?"   
  
He glanced at the others, who seemed to all be either thinking about something else or glaring for no reason. "No, we're pretty much set, thanks."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Every time Hermione caught Seamus's eye, he was giving her an I-don't-care-that-your-boyfriend-is-alone-with-my-girlfriend-in-a-private-place-for-the-whole-weekend-no-not-at-all look. Hermione returned a look along those same lines.   
  
Draco and Ginny were using the Head Boy and Girl's dorm as their classroom. She was sleeping in Hermione's room (she hoped), and they were taking their meals in the room. If they were eating or sleeping at all. Hermione had no idea what *intensive Occlumency* would be like.   
  
Damned Dark Lord.   
  
She could have been snogging Draco at that very moment, but instead he was teaching Ginny how to avoid trances. From his expression, Seamus was having thoughts along the same lines, though his would not have been about snogging Draco…*Now having mental picture of Draco making out with Gryffindor boys. Not entirely off-putting.*   
  
Hermione shook her head and went back to her notes. Their exams were only a few months away, after all…   
  
But she had trouble concentrating. She remembered what had come of Occlumency when Harry took it from Snape…and while this was a completely different circumstance, there were a million different things that could go wrong. What if Voldemort *did* try to enter Ginny's mind that weekend? He would not find it extremely difficult, and then who knew what would happen to Ginny or Draco?   
  
She bit her lip nervously. *I mustn't think such thoughts. If I just forget about it, everything will be fine…bloody Voldemort.*   
  
"Hey, Hermione. How are you?"   
  
"Fine, Harry. Where's Ron?"   
  
"Bathroom."   
  
"Oh? And you're not with him?" Hermione plastered on a teasing look.   
  
"Shut up. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. After what happened Wednesday night, Ron hasn't been quite as hostile to Malfoy. He's grateful that he was concerned about me, actually- so am I, by the way. But that's not what's important."   
  
"Great," Hermione replied. "Now all we need is for Draco to save your life. Ron would probably kiss him."   
  
"Ah, but then *I* would start hating him, so we wouldn't want that." Harry grinned. "No, see, we've just been having a talk about it, and I've managed to convince Ron that Malfoy's not as bad as he continues to tell himself. He refuses to be friends with him, but I don't think he'll be as…enemy-like."   
  
"Enemy-like?" Hermione laughed. "There's a good word."   
  
"Shut up, Hermione, I am doing this for you, you know."   
  
"Yes, Harry, and I'm glad. I was just kidding. Anyway, I know it will take them both a little while to get like you two, but-"   
  
"Like us two? Like Malfoy and me, you mean? What do you mean by that?"   
  
"Friends," Hermione stated, quite matter-of-factly.   
  
"Excuse me, but Malfoy and I are *not* friends," Harry began.   
  
"Oh, come off it! What are you then? And don't say not-enemies. I've seen you two talking, and the way Draco was worried when you disappeared at the ball. Wake up, Harry, that's how *friends* act."   
  
"Well, pardon me for being friendly with your boyfriend."   
  
"So you admit it, then?"   
  
Harry sighed, nodding. Hermione smiled triumphantly, turning the page in her book. "Told you. So how long do you think Ron will need?"   
  
"Oh, I'm not sure. Maybe he just needs to see more of that side of Malfoy, the side that's not a complete prat, you know? Let's see, it's been about ten months since we found out? Give it until December, then. I'm sure he'll come around by then."   
  
"Harry…"   
  
"Kidding, Hermione. He should be quite civil by the end of school, I should think."   
  
Hermione smiled in relief. "That's good. Now, I believe someone's waiting for you. Oh, and Harry? Never, ever tell me the details of what you two do in Ron's room. I really don't want to know."   
  
"Only if you promise the same."   
  
"Done," Hermione said. Harry smiled, shook his head, and jogged back up the stairs. Hermione's gaze went back to her notes as she muttered, "I promise I won't tell you what the two of you do in Ron's room either."   
  
A laugh came from behind her, but it seemed almost forced. Hermione turned. "Ginny! You're finished? How did it go?"   
  
"Everything's taken care of," she said. Her eyes seemed misty and unfocused.   
  
Her eyes narrowing, Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's arm. "Are you all right?"   
  
Ginny snapped into attention. "What? Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just…memories, you know. Don't worry, nothing horrible happened. Ah, and Draco told me to tell you he's waiting in the common room."   
  
"Thanks, Ginny. Oh, and Gin? Do you have that Indian dancing outfit with you?"   
  
"Yeah, why?"   
  
"Just make sure it's ready to wear. I have a killer idea." With a suggestive smile, Hermione left, making for the fourth floor.   
  
"Archentalial," she said to the painting of the mountains. It opened for her, and she stepped into their common room.   
  
Draco stood by the fire, one arm resting on the mantle, staring dazedly into the flames. Hermione approached him, but she did not touch him. She stood behind him, waiting.   
  
After a time, he turned to her. His face was tear-streaked and sullen. Hermione's eyes went wide with surprise and concern. Never before had she seen him cry. "Draco-" she stepped forward, reaching out a hand.   
  
He fell toward her, leaning much of his weight on her much smaller frame. She managed to stagger to the couch. Draco fell into it, and she sat beside him, gathering him into her arms. Sitting like that, she stroked his hair as he cried with his entire soul. She did not ask what was the matter. He wouldn't have told her anyway.   
  
After a time he fell asleep. Hermione removed her wand from her pocket, summoning a blanket to pull over them. She continued to stroke his hair, and she thought about many things as she waited for sleep to come to her.   
  
"Why am I doing this?" she whispered, only half knowing what she meant.   
  
For the next hour, it was all she could do not to wake Draco and tell him she wanted him to take her, that very night.   
  
End Chapter 47  
  
Sorry for the delay in posting, but oh well.   
  
Meh.   
  
Review for New Year's confetti. 


	49. Indian Seduction

Chapter 48- Indian Seduction  
  
"So you'll start in front of me, and our arms will be like this." Hermione demonstrated. "Then we'll switch them like this. I'll twirl to one side, and you to the other… and then we can do something like this."   
  
Hermione began to move her hips, shoulders, feet and arms with graceful motions. She saw Ginny imitating her, noting down the movements as they went.   
  
"Good, shall we go through it again?"   
  
"Yes," Ginny replied. "I'm not sure I remember that part in the middle correctly."   
  
They went through the routine for another two hours, until they had it virtually memorized. Hermione nodded approvingly when they had finished. "Tomorrow we'll do it with the song we still have to pick out. I'll set up the record. It is only three weeks away, after all."   
  
"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, then."   
  
Ginny picked up her bag and started for the exit. Hermione was tired of sneaking off to the ror, so she had banished Draco from their dorm while she and Ginny practiced. She did not know where he went, probably the library or something. She assumed he wouldn't go outside. It was too cold.   
  
Wherever he was, he returned quite immediately after Ginny had left. *Perhaps he was waiting outside the whole time…*   
  
"Hello, googlymuffinlips," she said to him.   
  
He simply responded, "Hello, Hermione." He disappeared into his room. *Damn it, he only goes in there because he knows I can't follow him.*   
  
No retort about how horrible her names for him were…that cut down on the fun of it greatly. No greeting kiss, no intimacy…  
  
She could tell he wanted to seek comfort in her arms. She could see it in the way he looked when he avoided her. He just would not let her near anymore. She managed to sit next to him during most of their classes, but he only talked about the work. He had been like this ever since the Occlumency with Ginny.   
  
*What happened that night/day/night/morning?* Hermione thought. She was referring to the Friday evening through Sunday morning Draco and Ginny had spent blocking Voldemort from her mind.   
  
Whenever Draco was in their dorm, he retreated to his room. Oh, how deeply she wanted to shatter the charm that kept her out and confront him. McGonagall would know, however, and she did not want to break her teacher's trust. Instead of acting on the impulse, she sat in the common room, waiting for Draco to emerge and tell her everything.   
  
He didn't, and she was left all alone.   
  
She and Ginny continued practicing their routine, adding music and costumes quickly enough that they had plenty of time for a real dress rehearsal. Hermione found comfort in the time she spent with the younger girl, but it would have been even better if Ginny volunteered information to her.  
  
She didn't. Hermione remembered how Ginny had entered the common room, dazed and glassy-eyed, after their Occlumency weekend. She had been distracted by thoughts of something…something that had happened that weekend, or an old memory resurfaced. She had not pressed it, but as far as she knew, Ginny had not spoken to anyone about it.   
  
"I think we'll be the best in the show, for sure," Ginny commented, changing back into her school uniform. It was the Tuesday before their debut as dancers.   
  
"Hey, Ginny?"   
  
"What, Hermione?"   
  
Well, here goes nothing. I suppose I'll never get answers unless there's a question. "What happened that weekend after the ball?"   
  
Ginny's face fell immediately. "It was…nothing. Draco taught me Occlumency, that's what happened."   
  
Hermione nodded. "All right. It's just that…Draco has been so distant lately. He hardly talks to me, and he spends all his time in his room if I don't force him out, aside from classes. I'm surprised he hasn't stopped eating, but in fact he seems more ravenous than ever. And he…" she trailed off. She had been about to tell Ginny about his crying, but that might have been a little too much. It was a very private thing, and she was sure that Draco wouldn't want her to tell.   
  
Ginny shrugged. "Well, I can honestly say I don't know what happened to him. Maybe he's just in a bad mood."   
  
Hermione flopped onto the couch, and her face went into her hands. "I'm so worried, Ginny. If he doesn't talk to me, how can I do anything about it?"   
  
She felt slim, tender but firm arms surround her. "It will be all right, Hermione. I promise it will. And if he doesn't start to come around with the speaking thing, well I'll just ambush him in the hallway. You know how much boys love to be confronted in the corridors." She winked. "So you just tell him that from me."   
  
"Thanks, Ginny." Hermione smiled at her. She was the youngest Weasley, but sometimes Hermione knew she was much more mature than Fred and George.   
  
"S'nothing. But listen, I've got to go. If I don't get this essay done on time, McGonagall will give me one of her Stern Looks, and her patented missing-homework-detention. You might not know what those are like, and neither do I really, but I've heard terrifying things about them."   
  
"Can't be as bad as Snape," Hermione pointed out.   
  
"Yeah- Snape! Oh my god, Hermione, I forgot to do my Potions homework! Oh, I really have to go. Damn it. See ya!"   
  
She was gone before Hermione had a chance to respond. Sighing, she pulled out her books and began another session of revision.   
  
"I didn't do it intentionally, you know."   
  
Hermione started, and loose papers flew all over. Ignoring them, she turned. Draco stood leaning against the wall just outside his corridor. "Do what?" she prompted. She knew what he meant, somehow, but wanted him to say it.   
  
"Make you worry. I didn't mean to, and I'm sorry."   
  
"It's all- hey, wait a minute. Did you hear us?"   
  
"Well, I just *happened* to be eavesdropping from my room, and so I couldn't help but hear."   
  
"Your room! You were supposed to be gone! You didn't see anything, did you?"   
  
"Your secret is still a secret, if that's what you mean. But I could hear everything you said. I guess I didn't think about what my behavior would do to others…especially you. I'm sorry," he repeated.   
  
Hermione regarded him for a moment. Obviously there was more to it, but it had taken long enough to get this much out of him. "It's all right," she said. "I'm sure you had a good reason."   
  
He nodded, then turned to go back to his room. She felt her forehead wrinkle, and her chin tremble as she watched him. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to tell her, and start behaving like his old self again. *Well, his new-old self,* she amended. But he had gone.   
  
She was worried about him, it was true, but she was more worried about them. What would happen to them if he never came out of his room? If he continued not to talk to her? Where would this depression leave their relationship? She would love him, always. She had no doubt. But could she really bring herself to stay by the side of someone who was completely removed from her?   
  
"Hermione?"   
  
She turned quickly. He had come back after all. She tried to calm herself, but it only forced out the tears she had been trying to hide. She kept her face away from Draco as he sat down beside her.   
  
"I just went to get my notes. I thought we'd do some revision together, you know… Hermione?"   
  
She did not answer, hoping he would leave it and let her cry without acknowledging it. Instead, she felt his fingers reach around and gently brush away some of the moisture from her cheek.   
  
"Excuse me," she muttered, and stood. Draco's hand on her arm brought her firmly back down. She turned to face him slowly. Her face crumpled again. "Draco…"   
  
He did not take her in his arms, kissing her and stroking her hair. That was what she had expected. He did instead something the likes of which she could never remember him doing.   
  
He took her head in his hands, bringing her face up to meet his gaze. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. His fingers were half-tangled in her hair. She gasped at his gray eyes, blazing with intensity and sorrow.   
  
"Hermione, I am sorry to have put you through this, truly. It will stop, I'll let it go. I will take care of this problem, it will have to be dealt with someday, but for now I can let it go. For your sake…"   
  
"Wh- what problem?"   
  
Draco stared at a spot behind her on the wall. "My father," he said simply. Hermione wanted to ask what he meant, but didn't. She waited for him to release her head, which he did soon, reaching for his notes. "Let's study, shall we?"   
  
She smiled, and took her own notes- which were thicker by a fraction- into her lap. "Well, all right then. I have missed our revisions greatly, after all."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco clapped with everyone else in the audience when Padma Patil bowed. Who knew a Ravenclaw could be such a good singer?   
  
"Thank you, Miss Patil," Professor McGonagall, who was acting as the mistress of ceremonies, said when the student had gone off the stage.   
  
Hermione had convinced him to agree to an all-school talent show. He supposed it was while he was in the throes of passion, during a heated snogging session, when she had asked, otherwise he would have argued more. As it was, he could not remember agreeing to it at all. He had now been sitting there for two and a half hours, quite bored, even if most of the acts were good. *It is called a Talent Show, after all. Not a Lack-of-talent show.* He simply did not care.   
  
"Now, for the final act in this wide variety of talent, we have Miss Ginny Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger with-" Professor McGonagall suddenly became Professor McBugEyes as she read the name of their act. "With 'Indian Seduction'."   
  
There was a short round of clapping, and a murmur of interest as most of the boys- and a few girls- sat up straighter. Draco suppressed his smile, but he let his head shake slightly.   
  
The curtain opened slowly to a beat on a jingling, harmonic instrument that Draco could not identify. The first thing he saw were the colors adorning the stage, which had not been there only a few moments ago. Every color he could wish to have there was just- there, and nothing more. There in swirling patterns all around the floor, the ceiling, the backdrop…  
  
And then he saw the girl standing in the middle of the stage. Ginny Weasley was in a sea blue getup that made her look quite fetching, actually, and she had highlights in her red hair, which seemed to have been lengthened for the occasion, to match. She looked like she had four arms. Her own were raised high above her head. The arms Draco easily recognized as Hermione's stuck out lower from Ginny's sides.   
  
The arms switched positions slowly, with an unearthly grace that intrigued Draco. Their arms continued to weave for a few more second, and then Ginny twirled to the side…   
  
At the same time, Hermione spun to the other side of the stage, and Draco's mind went berserk. She was wearing an outfit akin to Ginny's but it was red with orange at the trim. It left her flat stomach exposed- a part of Hermione that Draco had never seen her show in public. Her hair hung straight and sleek, almost to her waist.   
  
As if her appearance weren't enough, she had to start swaying her hips, her arms and fingers moving delicately as she did so. He was vaguely aware of Ginny's corresponding moves a few yards from Hermione, but he did not care about what she was doing. He watched Hermione, every move she made, with intent awe. He had never seen her move this way…  
  
Then he saw her moving closer to the floor…closer…closer… until she was propping herself up on one arm, her stomach moving in an enticing wave as her other arm was raised above her head, her hand rotating in a rather- suggestive way.   
  
Draco managed a split second glance away to see what had happened to the expected cat-calls and whistles. In that fraction of a look he saw that the entire audience was completely enraptured, captivated by the performance. He then lost all interest in anything but Hermione.   
  
The way she synchronized her whole body with the beat of the music.   
  
The way she made his heart pound dangerously.   
  
The way he felt a throbbing in his…   
  
It was over all too soon. Ginny and Hermione made graceful bows, disappearing from the stage to the disappointment of much of the student body.   
  
And Draco was only considering the body of *one* student when he noted this. His own body. It was quite disappointed. But he was sure Hermione would make up for it later.   
  
Professor McThat'stheMostBrazenDisplayofSexualityI'veEverSeen stepped up and stammered, "Tha- thank you, Misses Weasley and Granger for that performance. I am sure everyone enjoyed it. And that concludes our talent show. I hope there will be half so much talent here next-"   
  
She was drowned out by cheering as Ginny and Hermione emerged, still in their costumes. Draco felt his disappointment melt away…  
  
Ginny let the other students crowd around her, basking in the glow of utter adoration, but Hermione paid no attention to the compliments from every side. As she headed resolutely for Draco, she never took her eyes off him.   
  
He pulled her into him eagerly but gently. She hugged him, then began to laugh. "Have you ever seen anything so silly! People getting this excited over a dance…I mean, I'm flattered, but really…"   
  
*You have no idea.*   
  
End Chapter 48  
  
Hehehe…more of Draco's student body next chapter. Review for flashing colors confetti!!! Not as good as the shruvewip confetti, but it'll do, eh? 


	50. Final Triumph

Chapter 49- Final Triumph  
  
It had been over a month since the talent show. That night, Harry had almost wished he was straight again…but not quite.   
  
He stood in the Gryffindor locker room, surveying his team. They were ready- that's all there was to it.   
  
"Okay, guys. And girls," he amended. "You know the drill. We've practiced this hundreds of times. Also, for some of us, this is the last game we'll ever play at Hogwarts, and we want it to be one we'll remember fondly."   
  
"So no pressure," Ginny called. Everyone laughed, releasing their tension.  
  
Harry gave his team one more appraising look. "Let's win."   
  
With that, they rose to step out onto the field. Before they emerged, Harry gave Ron a quick kiss on the cheek, and they wished each other luck.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco looked over the Slytherin House team one more time. *Better than last year, I suppose,* he allowed. He knew, though, that he had chosen a good team, and they were good enough to win.   
  
"All right," he said to them. He had practiced this speech hundreds of times, why was he suddenly nervous? Not about the speech, he supposed. "This is it, guys. This is my last game at Hogwarts, and it would be nice to end it on a winning note. More importantly, this is my last game against Gryffindor. They've won every year since I came to Hogwarts. We have to finally prove to them what Slytherin can do. Don't get distracted, stay focused on the game, and don't bother insulting the other team's players. It's never done anything for us before."   
  
"Listen to him, men, he knows what he's talking about," Sagittus jested. "It's been his strategy for the past five years."   
  
Draco gave him a sour look, then let his trademark Smirk take its place. "Most importantly for all of you, I picked you because you were the best, but if you don't perform to my satisfaction today- by that I mean winning- I might just let Snape know that I don't consider you fit to play on the team in coming years."   
  
Most of the gazes faltered. Sagittus continued to stare straight at him. *He knows how good he is, the little bastard. But it's not him I'm worried about.*   
  
"So just get out there and win the game. We can do this."   
  
They all walked onto the field. As Draco stepped into the sunlight- the weather was perfect for Quidditch- he reminded himself to follow his own advice. Stay focused on the game, and try not to pay too much attention to Potter.   
  
"Captains shake hands," Madame Hooch commanded. Harry stepped forward. They exchanged half-smiles at the gasps of the crowd. For the first time in as long as anyone could remember, the Gryffindor and Slytherin captains had not tried to break each other's hands. This was juicy gossip.   
  
"Best team?" Harry suggested.   
  
"Yeah," Draco agreed. "Good luck. You'll need it."   
  
Harry laughed and rose into the sky. Not to be outdone, Draco mounted his Flashstorm and rose a few feet higher.   
  
The Quaffle was up- the commentary started- and Draco heard none of it. He occasionally checked the scoreboard, but otherwise he did not care what was being said about the match. All he cared about was winning it.   
  
The Snitch would not appear until later in the game, so Draco took the opportunity to observe both teams in action. They were both rather good, as he had known already. The scores were about even, and their performance was on a level as well. He could not help but admire the way Harry flew around giving directions to his teammates as he looked for the Snitch. Now that was multitasking.   
  
He admired it, and almost sneered at the same time. It took a good flier and quick thinker to do both at once, but it would have been simpler if the other team members could figure it out on their own. That was how he had trained the Slytherin team, so he could be free to look for the Snitch.   
  
The Quaffle switched from one end of the pitch to the other so often that Draco gave up following it. As he had told them, every time the Quaffle was in the Gryffindor zone, his Beaters aimed clear at Weasley. Harry caught on quickly.   
  
"Andy- stay in our end, the Quaffle changes hands too much for you both to be flying everywhere! Brianna, you cover the rest!" Harry shouted to them. "Ginny, watch out!"   
  
With Harry's warning, she managed to dodge the Bludger just in time, and passed the Quaffle off to what-was-his-name…Welcher?- who scored a moment later. Then his team took control. One of the Chasers weaved around the hoops, then streaked across the pitch. He swerved and shot a goal past Weasley.   
  
Draco allowed himself a victory sound. He restrained himself from calling out to the Slytherin team, reminding himself that he was above that. Instead, he looked for Hermione in the crowd, and was somehow able to tell where she was before he saw her. He could tell, even from a distance, that her anxiety about the outcome of the match was for him by the smile she gave him. He blew her a kiss and turned back to the match.   
  
Gryffindor was ten points up at sixty. They would have to pull ahead by at least thirty points if they were going to win the Cup. Draco sought Harry out, relieved to find that he had not already spotted the Snitch.   
  
In a rare stroke of being useful, one of the Beaters managed to hit the Bludger in Finnigan's direction, and he was deemed unfit to play for the match. His ankle had been shattered by the blow. Draco, while he actually felt kind of sorry for the guy, was ecstatic to be one player up. This would speed up their victory.   
  
A Bludger hit the Slytherin Keeper on the shoulder, but he shrugged it off and continued. *That's the right way,* Draco thought. *Don't let anything stop you.* It was then that he checked the score again.   
  
It was eighty-ninety, Slytherin. *Yes.*   
  
Sagittus intercepted a pass and shot the Quaffle through the center hoop. Draco cheered him, and he looked in his captain's direction. The Quaffle was flying toward the Slytherin end, and Sagittus chased after it.   
  
And then he flew directly in front of Draco, circling long enough to say one thing. "If you're not careful, someone's going to get the Snitch right out from under you." He flew off.   
  
Draco looked down discreetly. About five feet below him, the golden snitch hovered. He saw Harry turn and spot it in that moment. He made quick decision, did a flip in the air-   
  
And his hand closed over the golden snitch. His head was spinning and his ears ringing. The crowd blurred as he sank to the ground. His team came in around him for a victory hug, then all but Draco turned to taunt the Gryffindors in true Slytherin style.   
  
As for the captain, he only had one thought. *I won. I finally beat Harry Potter.*   
  
When he had at last processed that thought, he realized that Hermione was pushing her way toward him through the crowd. Her smile extended from one ear to the other, and when she reached him, she threw her arms around him in a crushing hug.   
  
"You did it! I'm so proud of you!"   
  
"Traitor."   
  
Hermione and Draco turned to see Ron and Harry standing next to them. Ron looked absolutely livid, glaring at Hermione, while Harry seemed almost amused. He held his hand out. Draco shook it, smiling. "I told you I would beat you one day."   
  
"Took you long enough," Harry replied. "Come on, Ron. Showers."   
  
After they left, Draco told Hermione quietly, "I hope that doesn't mean what I think it means."   
  
She smiled widely. "Probably. But there's no reason for us to think about that. We do know how to have our own fun, don't we?"   
  
Draco slipped an arm around her waist. "We certainly do. Hey, wait for me, I've got to change."   
  
"No, leave it on. I've always thought these uniforms were rather attractive, actually. Anyway, it won't take you too long to get out of it, I assume."   
  
"Not *too* long…" He was aware of the smirk growing as he thought of what could happen in their dorm.   
  
Though what did happen was short of what he would have liked, it was a bit more than he had pictured…but he never told anyone the details of what they did.   
  
End Chapter 49  
  
It's a short chapter. So shoot me. I couldn't think of anything else. Nearing the end of seventh year now. Exciting, innit?   
  
If you want more, you'll have to review! Review for read-my-other-fics confetti. 


	51. Tastes Like

Chapter 50- Tastes Like  
  
Draco covered his ears to block out the infernal knocking, but it did not help. It echoed through the common room, even after the person outside had apparently finished. Sighing with determined annoyance, he got as close as he could to Hermione's room.   
  
"Hermione!"   
  
"What?!" She called from inside.   
  
"Did you put a Sonorus Charm on the portrait hole?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Of course she knew that he expected her to mention *why* she had done this, but no information was forthcoming from the unseen Hermione. Therefore, sighing with even more determined annoyance, Draco went to the entrance to their dorm to open it before the insanely loud request to enter was again utilized.   
  
And of *course*, none other than Harry and Weasley stood there, and none other than those same Wonder Boys entered the common room when he stepped aside. Draco really kind of liked Harry now, he wasn't a bad sort, and while he didn't mind Weasley, he remembered what had happened the last time the red-haired boy had been in their dorm.   
  
"Is Hermione here?"   
  
"Yes," Draco said in a loud mutter. "She's in her room at the moment. She should be out soon."   
  
"What's going on?"   
  
"Nothing much, Potter. Just remembering my powerful Quidditch victory a few days ago…"   
  
Harry's mouth quirked into a half-smile. It irked Draco that he was not at all bothered by losing, but Ron's reaction more than made up for it. Weasley was scowling quite enough for both of them, and then some.   
  
"Oh Ron, get over it, mate. It was just one game. You'll have other games." Harry slipped an arm around his waist.   
  
"But that was our last game at Hogwarts. I wanted to go out with a bang," he pouted.   
  
Harry grinned seductively. "I think we can arrange that."   
  
"Ugh," said Draco. "No semi-public displays of affection, *please*. Only in the privacy of your own common room. Or at least not until Hermione comes out, and I have something to distract me."   
  
Hermione chose that moment to emerge. Ron and Harry turned to him with smiles on their faces and fluttered their eyelashes. He rolled his eyes and turned to his girlfriend, but she had other things on her mind.   
  
"Okay, Quidditch season is over, so you have no excuse. Will you three *please* start revising for N.E.W.T.s?"   
  
"I already have," Draco defended. "You know that, Hermione. I do not appreciate your accusations."   
  
"Well, you haven't been doing very much, and I just want you three to get good grades… is that so wrong?"   
  
"We're all incredibly touched by your concern." Harry put a hand to his heart dramatically. Ron snorted, and Draco put the back of his hand over his mouth to hide his smirk.   
  
Hermione had a special glare reserved just for him. She used it right at that moment. "Fine. Fail then, I don't care. *I* will be revising. Over there." She stalked to the sofa, and flopped heavily onto it, dragging her notes into her lap. Judging by how much smaller this pile looked, it must be Ancient Runes. There were not as many facts that applied to runes, so there were not as many notes…   
  
"I cannot believe I can tell what subject you're studying by the thickness of the notes," Draco said in her ear.  
  
She twisted to smile at him. "That's only because you love me, sugar pants."   
  
Two snorts sounded at this. He turned to see Harry and Ron looking conspicuously everywhere but at them. They were sitting across the table. His eyes narrowed, but then his expression turned suddenly mischievous.   
  
"Of course I do, sweet cheeks." He gave her a suggestive wink and tapped the side of her bum lightly. Then he looked meaningfully over at the two who were pretending not to notice the behavior of the head boy and girl.   
  
From her reaction the last time he had threatened to call her sweet cheeks, he would have expected her to be annoyed at him. Instead, she suddenly burst into giggles. This made Harry and Weasley eye them askance as Draco slid himself next to her, pulling his Charms notes closer to him.   
  
Neither of them had brought their notes, so Harry borrowed Draco's Defense stack, and Ron took Hermione's incredible pile of Transfiguration notes. The four of them sat in silence for a while, the only sound an occasional shift in position or a turning page.   
  
Without warning, another sound interrupted the perfect studying conditions. Someone shaking something in a box. A bunch of things, actually. Small, solid things. Draco glanced briefly up to catch Ron pouring out half a box of Every Flavor Beans on the table.   
  
"Hmm…" sounded at the corner of his hearing. If hearing had corners at all. Well, if vision could have corners, so could hearing. All senses could have corners. Though smell was not a tangible thing, so it shouldn't be able to have corners…well, none of the senses were *actually* tangible in themselves…*What am I thinking about?*   
  
Draco read on. 'The charm for making inanimate objects tap-dance is called "Clikius Neutros". It works best on objects that can easily form legs to tap on…'   
  
"Hey, listen to this," Harry told them, intrigued.   
  
"I think that one was ink flavored."   
  
"Ron, shut up. 'One popular bit of Transfiguration is turning water into wine. Often it is done at large parties, to avoid the cost of buying so much wine. The first wizard credited with this spell is Jesus Christ.'"   
  
"Yes, I found that interesting as well," Hermione commented, not looking up from her notes. "That's why I wrote it down, after all."   
  
"Mmm, peppermint cake…"   
  
"Ron, SHUT- wait, peppermint cake! Not fair! Why do you get the good ones? Whenever I try one it's always, like, liver, or onions with spinach." Harry had put the notes aside and joined Ron in sliding closer to the table.   
  
"Ugh, can't you two eat quietly?" Draco's mouth twitched in amusement as Hermione's ire grew.   
  
"Wow, treacle pudding! I was wrong, mate. I got the best one."   
  
"Oh, that's just mean. That one tasted like dog hair." There was a sound of gagging and coughing, followed by Harry's voice.   
  
"Here's a purple one…tastes like…" a pause, and Draco waited, pretending to be studying his notes. "Some purple thing," Harry decided finally.   
  
"Some purple thing?" Draco exclaimed. "Please, even I could do better than that."   
  
"Draco, will you be quiet please? Some of us are actually trying to study," Hermione said sternly.   
  
"All right then, go ahead," challenged Harry.   
  
"You're going down," Draco told him, quite matter-of-factly.   
  
"Not if we can help it," Ron grinned. He looked somewhat malicious. *Still* sour about the Quidditch match, probably.   
  
"Go on, then," Harry urged.   
  
Draco picked up a bean, examined it in its strange gray color. He put it in his mouth and chewed, ignoring a remark of, "would never eat anything that color".   
  
"Sarcasm."   
  
"What?" Harry said.   
  
"It tastes like sarcasm."   
  
"You're making that up! Sarcasm doesn't *have* a taste," Weasley said skeptically.   
  
"Nevertheless, that is the taste," Draco said, rather condescendingly. "Oh, come on, Weasley. Don't you think Draco Malfoy, of all people, would know what sarcasm tastes like?"   
  
Ron regarded him for a moment. "All right, I'll give you that one. But if you don't start coming up with some real flavors soon, I'll *know* you're making it up."   
  
"Here's one for you, Weasley. This one is watermelon."   
  
Ron scowled. "Fine."   
  
"Oo, apple crisp," Harry murmured. "With whipped cream."   
  
"Ice cream cone," Ron said.   
  
"What flavor?"   
  
"How many flavors do cones have, Harry?"   
  
"What, no ice cream in it?"   
  
"Not unless it tastes the same as a cone."   
  
Draco rolled his eyes, then put a dark green bean on his tongue. "Hmm. I think it's…plethinira moppli. Interesting."   
  
"What's that?" Weasley asked.   
  
"A type of plant." That was Hermione.   
  
"If you're not actually studying, Hermione, why don't you join us?"   
  
"Because, *Draco*, I am trying to study. If I go do whatever the blazes you're doing, I'll never get *anything* done." She turned back to her notes indignantly. Draco made interesting gestures to Harry, who started laughing.   
  
"I can see you in the window, Draco."   
  
"You're not even facing the window."   
  
"The world works in mysterious ways, then."   
  
"What the hell does that mean."   
  
"Ugh! Oh, yuck, that's disgusting! Ugh, ugh, ugh!" Ron spit onto the table.   
  
"Weasley, that's our table you're spitting onto!" Draco growled in protest.  
  
"That one tasted like a flobberworm." Draco caught Harry's eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter.   
  
Hermione moved closer to him, daintily picking up one bean and placing it into her mouth. The innocent smile she wore previously changed to a look of wonder. She turned to face Draco.   
  
"Draco," she said with breathy drama. "It tastes like you."   
  
Draco stopped in mid-chew. He glanced at Harry and Ron, who were also looking at her with very odd expressions. Hermione looked around at the three of them, and burst out laughing. The rest of them soon followed. They laughed forever.  
  
"I'm just kidding," Hermione gasped, wiping tears from her cheeks.   
  
"What did it really taste like?" Harry asked.   
  
Hermione grew serious. "It actually tasted a lot like grease."   
  
"Any specific grease?" Draco prompted, sensing where she was going with this.   
  
"Yes," She said, still quite somber. "The grease from Snape's hair."   
  
They all began laughing again. From that moment, they never actually told the real flavors. Draco tasted butter, strawberry, chocolate mousse, and French bread. What he said aloud were the flavors of aluminum foil, Every Flavor Beans, deodorant soap, and Quidditch.   
  
"Quidditch?" Harry perked up. "What does Quidditch taste like?"   
  
"This bean, apparently."   
  
"That's nothing, Malfoy," Weasley said, laughing slightly. "This one tastes like *winning* at Quidditch!"   
  
Draco was tempted to make a rude comment (it would have been so easy), but he didn't. He instead grinned and told them that his next bean tasted of midnight rain. Harry told him he sounded like a girl.   
  
They never actually got back to studying.  
  
End Chapter 50   
  
I needed a very light subject, and a chapter semi-devoted to N.E.W.T.s. I was going to put in a chapter in which they actually *take* the tests, but then I didn't want to bother, so I just added a bit of revision. Savvy? And some comedy was needed.   
  
The next chapter has some more serious stuff in it, and the chapter after *that*…well, I don't want to go giving the story away, do I?   
  
Responding to a comment, I realize it would have been more "Draco emerges victorious from the field of battle" (PLUG ::Trick Stair by Lyra Silvertongue2:: PLUG) if he had spotted the Snitch himself. I really wanted the Snitch to be under him so he could do an impressive flip in the air, and if you think about it, that would be difficult to see. It is, may I point out, *directly* under him. He won, what more do you want?   
  
Review for Sarcasm confetti. It's gray and sarcastic. You know you want some. 


	52. To Shake Faith

Chapter 51- To Shake Faith  
  
Hermione sat with three male companions under a tree by the lake, watching the giant squid propel itself across the lake. Their final N.E.W.T. had ended just under an hour ago. The quite aptly named Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests had taken up most of their time for the past two weeks.   
  
"You know, Hermione, I'm almost glad you made us study," Ron commented lazily. "Some of the stuff they asked, I never would have remembered had I not looked over your- I mean, my notes." He had thus far not admitted that he could not study properly from his own notes.   
  
"Mmm," Hermione replied. She was dozing against Draco's shoulder, with his right arm curled comfortably around her, and was not inclined to speak.   
  
"It really wasn't as hard as I thought it would be," Harry said. He seemed happy about this, unsurprisingly. "I mean, who knew there would be a twenty-point question about the Patronus Charm?"   
  
"I did," Draco drawled. "No, just kidding. I was surprised at that one, actually. Good thing Hermione's notes are so detailed, or none of us would have passed."   
  
"And the Transfiguration N.E.W.T. was only three questions. I don't think that was quite fair," Harry said bluntly.   
  
"Well, they were things every wizard should know, Harry," Hermione mumbled. "Besides…the practical test was…was…*yawn*."  
  
She felt more than heard Draco chuckle slightly. "Don't try to involve yourself in the conversation, Hermione. These two could keep me amused for hours."  
  
"You know," she said sleepily, "I could take that a number of ways. One of them is quite provocative but not unpleasant in the least. Can you guess which?"   
  
Hermione knew, though her eyes were closed, that Ron looked horrified, Harry amused-horrified, and Draco like he was about to cough up a porcupine. In her ear, she heard a whisper. "I would only do that with you, darling."   
  
She smiled slightly. *I know,* she thought back.   
  
"Go to sleep, Hermione," Draco ordered gently. She didn't need urging, really. She was half-asleep as it was, and quite comfortable enough to go the rest of the way into sleep right there. Draco made a wonderful pillow…  
  
She opened one eye briefly, too quick for any of them to see, before the thought passed. She could see Harry and Ron with that half-glance. They both looked- content was the word, she thought. Ron seemed a bit less comfortable around Draco than Harry (the latter two had finally admitted they were friends), but he did not seem unhappy to be there. Hermione relented, she had never thought to see the day when the four of them would be doing *anything* together. Considering how much they used to hate each other.   
  
The reason she had kept Draco as a secret from them for so long, despite what they might have thought, was that she was afraid they would make her choose between them. How could she ever do that? She loved Harry and Ron, and could never give them up as friends, but Draco was her one and only Love.   
  
The thought that Harry and Ron might begrudge her Love had made her both angry and afraid. If they really considered themselves her friends…but she was getting distracted. They had accepted her choice, and they were trying to get along with Draco. Harry was succeeding, actually. Ron- well, he still had a ways to go before he got to that level.   
  
She knew her eyes were still closed, but she was staring out across the lake. It stretched as far as eye could see. Above it, the sky imposed itself on her vision. Bright blue, brighter than occurs in real life, filled her vision.   
  
In the midst of that bright blue, a black figure appeared. It was confident and intimidating. It approached her, seeming to glide in the air. Its black robes billowed dramatically, in the tradition of the clichéd ominous figure. It seemed to be wearing a mask…but it couldn't be…  
  
A Death Eater?   
  
All too soon, the figure hovered before her. A few strands of pale hair blew free; the rest were tucked under the robe's hood. He pointed his wand at her, and she could feel a smirk radiating from him.   
  
"At last, I have what I have been seeking. You will be the answer to all my problems." His voice was taunting, somehow hinting that the key to her escape was just beyond her grasp. Or just within it, if she only knew what it was.   
  
"Shows how much you know," she responded. "I'll never help you."   
  
"You don't really have a choice in that," he snarled.   
  
"Oh? In case you didn't know, you would never get away with anything you do to me. There are too many people who care about me."   
  
"They can't do anything about it if they never find out. And how would they know, with no witnesses to tell them who was at fault? The answer: they would not. That is why I am a Slytherin. My plans always work."   
  
The voice seemed familiar, but was distorted beyond recognition. Rage, insanity, laughter obscured it into something she could not place. Evil had changed the voice to sound so mocking. Hermione tried to get up, but her body was weak. Somehow, she had lost control of her muscles.   
  
Panic began to spread over her, and she desperately searched to remember where she had left her wand…it was in her pocket.   
  
Her fingers wiggled upon command. Relief came over her, in slight proportions. Perhaps with time, she would have in her use enough muscles to chase the Death Eater away.   
  
"There is no hope for you," the Death Eater insisted. "No one knows you are here. But you are. And so lovely. What must be done, however, *must* be done."   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, but I hold to what I said before. You will not escape with your life if you do anything to me."   
  
She knew this to be true. It had to be. If before any harm-doers would have died of Harry and Ron, now Draco would be sure to hex them beyond oblivion if he got his hands on them. He had shown time and time again how much he cared, what he would do for her.   
  
"Relax," the Death Eater told her as she flexed her hand surreptitiously. "Your part in this is easy. All you have to do is die." He raised his wand slowly. So slowly, in fact, that she could now move her shoulder.   
  
She had just enough time to regain control of her whole arm. "Goodbye," the Death Eater stated primly.   
  
Before he could cast his spell, she whipped her wand from her pocket and pointed it at him.   
  
"Interficus Maleficum!" she intoned. The Death Eater fell to the ground in front of her, his life wiped from his body. She lay back for a moment, enjoying her relief, letting her muscles regain movement.   
  
When finally she could walk again, she got up and went to the fallen body. It was not really important, he was dead, he was a Death Eater, he would never harm anyone again. However, something about his voice tugged at her; she had to know.   
  
Hesitantly, eagerly, she knelt beside the body. Painstakingly, she reached for the mask, and removed it. She gasped and fell backward.   
  
The face revealed was Draco's.   
  
Hermione jerked out of her dream, sitting up with a start. Her breathing was unsteady, and she fought to control her tears. Why would she dream such a thing?   
  
"Hermione?" She felt Draco's hand on her back. "What's wrong?"   
  
She closed her eyes, swallowing a few times. She shook her head to clear it of horrible thoughts. She knew Draco too well for it to be true. "Nothing," she replied, settling back into his arms. "Just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about."   
  
"Tell me."   
  
"No, I don't want to talk about it right now. I'll tell you later." How much later, she really didn't know. Maybe in a few decades…  
  
It was then that she noticed the absence of two of her friends. "Where did Harry and Ron go?" she asked.   
  
"They left about five minutes ago. Said something about chess. Good thing, too. I expected Harry to start snogging Ron at any second." He made a sound that suggested he would rather look at other things.   
  
Hermione giggled. "Really? Well, that's a coincidence, isn't it? Because I was expecting you to start snogging *me* at any second."   
  
Draco laughed shortly. They sat comfortably, silently for a few minutes. Knowing Draco…Hermione waited for the snog to come. And waited…  
  
Without warning, he turned her and caught her mouth with his, his tongue searching. His hand traveled over her back, pulling her closer. She let herself melt into him, until she hardly knew where she ended and he began. She felt his passion seep into her, and they changed positions to make for a more pleasurable snog.   
  
Basically, the same thing they did every day.   
  
Though usually it was at night and NOT in plain view of all students or teachers that happened to pass.   
  
When at last they parted lips, they sat grinning at each other lovingly, limbs entangled. Draco began to stroke her hair, which she was wearing straight that day. Draco spoke first.   
  
"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" he asked quietly.   
  
"Yes," she replied with a smile. "I think so. But I can't quite remember." She brought her face closer to his and whispered, "Remind me."   
  
He did remind her, for about the next hour.   
  
Suddenly, when they had progressed to hands in each other's clothes, a scandalized Professor McMissGrangerI'mSurprisedAtYou caught them, and sent them to do some Head Boy and Girl chore.   
  
"I notice she wasn't surprised at you," Hermione said smugly.   
  
"Well, everyone knows my reputation," Draco shrugged. He was obviously covering up his pride in that reputation with the indifference in his voice.   
  
"Your reputation has changed a bit, I would think. I've 'changed you for the better', you know." She winked.   
  
"I'm changed *you* for the better, as well. Better sex life, that is."   
  
"Draco! You don't have a sex life anymore. And don't be expecting anything soon. We still have another two weeks of school."   
  
"I know," he groaned. "Why are they torturing us? We've taken our N.E.W.T.s already. It's not as though we need more time at this bloody school. Why don't they just let us go?"   
  
"Draco, you aren't honestly telling me that you won't miss Hogwarts at all."   
  
"Well, not *honestly*. I will miss it, I suppose. It was, after all, where I met you. Wonderful place, this castle," he said, looking around with approval.   
  
She swatted at him. "I mean it. You're going to miss living here, admit it."   
  
"Well yes, I suppose. But I have this marvelous flat in London, maybe you've heard about it?"   
  
"Oh, shut it, Draco. You're so sarcastic. It suits you, but it annoys me. Have you ever been just sincere?"   
  
"My apologies," he said solemnly. He got down on one knee before her, took her hand in his, and placed his other hand over his heart. "Thank you, dearest Hermione, who art fairer than all the treasures of the world, for the gift of the Flat thou hast given me, and the gift of thy Heart. Thou art greater for that than the god-"   
  
"That's enough." She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "I said sincere. I did not say overdramatic *or* exaggerated."   
  
He stood and took her in his arms. "Is this better?" He asked. His head being above hers, she could barely hear him. She wrapped her own arms around him, and they sighed together with happiness.   
  
"Much."   
  
************************************************************************  
  
"I grow more impatient by the minute, Lucius," Voldemort told his right hand Death Eater. "The Potter boy has thwarted my plans five times too many. You told me you had a plan sure to succeed."   
  
"I do, my lord," Lucius bowed again. "I know a way to lure Potter, his red-headed friend, and even my treacherous son to a place we- you choose, Master."   
  
Voldemort's red eyes glowed, intrigued. "Do you? Go on."   
  
"The girl," Lucius said. "The Mudblood. They care for her, and the damsel-in-distress fix never fails to bring the quote unquote heroes to the scene. All that must be done would be to bring her to the designated spot, and wait for the others to come after her."   
  
"And you think this can be done *before* this school term at Hogwarts ends? I do so wish to see the look in that fool Dumbledore's eyes when he finds out students were killed on his own territory."   
  
"Doubtless, my Lord. And I know just where we should bring them. Professors will take too long to get there to do any damage to our plan."   
  
"So you say. Where is this place?"   
  
"You know of the Forbidden Forest, of course. Well, my son Draco has a lingering fear of forests…"   
  
Voldemort leaned closer as Lucius continued. At last, one of his servants had been able to form the plan that would succeed. It was so simple, and yet so effective, that it would end Dumbledore's faith in the White magic forever.   
  
End Chapter 51  
  
Well well. The plot has thickened. Although it's pretty thick already, so this brings it to quite an impressive consistency.   
  
I'd like to say to everyone, including those who have not read or reviewed the last chapter as of yet, that the whole Jesus Christ thing was just a thing, did not mean anything, does not reflect my beliefs, and if you're offended by it or think I shouldn't have written it, just pretend it's not there. It doesn't really matter all that much. If I end up being sued by the Roman Catholic Church, I might change it.   
  
Anyway, review for some type of confetti! 


	53. A Portkey To Our Doom

Chapter 52- A Portkey to Our Doom  
  
It was the very end of May. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco were lounging about on the grass during their very last Care of Magical Creatures lesson. For this last lesson, Hagrid had a surprise for them.   
  
"I doubt many o' ye have seen an elf before," he said proudly. "Well, this idn't an elf per se, but e's half elf. Th' other 'alf is woodland faery. 'E should be arrivin' in a minute or so… ah. Ere 'e is."   
  
Hermione gasped, along with most of the other female members of the class, at the sigh of the faery-elf. He was about five feet tall- the product of a tall creature and a very small one. His skin was pale, and shimmered with blue light that radiated from him. His hair was whiter than any Malfoy's, and hung silkily just past his shoulders. Two lovely, delicate wings protruded from his back. He wore nothing but some elegant cloth of a color that was somehow black and white at the same time.   
  
And, he was absolutely gorgeous.   
  
Hermione stole a glance at her gay friends, and saw them staring unabashedly. Harry turned to Ron and began to converse with him quietly. Hermione giggled in a disgustingly high pitch and pressed her face into Draco's arm.   
  
"If you're going to react that way to him, why don't you just have *him* be your boyfriend?" Draco suggested irritably.   
  
"I'm laughing at Harry and Ron, actually. And I love you too much for that, honey-bubble-bear."   
  
He groaned. "Enough with the names, 'sweet cheeks'."   
  
She gave him a warning look before their attention was brought back to the faery-elf.   
  
"Can' speak English, or he'd introduce 'imself. Name's 'Areniul', 'e tol' me. Got traits of both elves an' faeries, this one, so 'e sure is a fascinating creetur. 'S got retractable fangs. Quite a thing, that…"   
  
Hagrid went on for about twenty minutes describing Areniul's less obvious traits. Hermione paid rapt attention, allowing the glowing bluish figure to flood her vision. Areniul endured their stares and sighs for that long. Then he spoke in an unintelligible yet strongly beautiful language, and departed suddenly.   
  
"Ah, 'e never did like hangin' around one place fer long. Ye 'ave th' rest of th' class free. Jess wanted te give yer somethin' special, y'know, seein' as its yer last class."   
  
Every Gryffindor assured him he had done so, and Draco smiled politely, though he did not say anything. The students wandered off their separate ways. In the space of a minute, Harry and Ron were nowhere in sight.   
  
Draco and Hermione strolled over the grounds, hand in hand. They spoke once in a while, and sometimes just walked in silence. It didn't really matter. Hermione was happy as long as she was with him.   
  
"Can you believe it? We're so close to the end. In a few days we'll be leaving Hogwarts forever…" Hermione threw a wistful glance up toward the castle.   
  
"You've been saying that for quite a while now," Draco told her quietly. "I would have thought you would have expected me to get it by now."   
  
Her smile was shy for some reason. "I know. I just can't get over it. Hogwarts has been a second home to me for years now. What will I do without it?"   
  
Draco stared straight ahead, and did not answer.   
  
"You already admitted you would miss it."   
  
He sucked in the warm air, as though preparing to speak the unspeakable. She squeezed his arm briefly, offering him love, and waited. It was all she had to do. He would tell her anything, if she waited long enough.   
  
"Hermione, you remember the day…after I had taught Ginny Occlumency, and you came back to our dorm…remember?"   
  
"Yes," she replied, as slowly as she dared. There was no need to speak of Draco's condition upon her entering.   
  
"Have you been wondering, this whole time, what it was about?"   
  
"Well, I don't spend every waking moment thinking about it, but it has troubled me. I had never seen you like that before. I don't expect I ever will again. And then…"   
  
Revisiting the time when he had virtually ignored her was painful to say the least. She blinked back the tears pricking behind her eyes. "I'm sorry, again. You won't have to feel that ever again, I promise you, Hermione. I was…troubled. I still am, but I can't hurt you that way. And so I risk your life with our relationship. It's selfishness on my part, I know, I only can't resist the thought of your happiness."   
  
"Draco, what are you saying?"   
  
He took a slow breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He looked resolute but far away.   
  
"Draco?"   
  
His head jerked slightly, as though her voice had pulled him out of a memory. He looked into her eyes, searching. For what, she could not tell. Still, she let him search, and whether or not he found it was his business.   
  
"During the course of that weekend, every thought, ever whim, every concoction of fear I have had related to danger to you came to me. I have imagined countless times what my father would do if ever he got his hands on you. It all came from the threat at the beginning of last summer- that was almost a year ago, wasn't it? Ah, well. I have seen you die so many times it makes me sick. I could never bear it if anything like that actually happened."   
  
"It won't Draco. I promise not to die."   
  
He shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips as he rested his forehead on hers. "You can't control everything, no matter what you say. Were you going to let me finish?" When she did not speak, he continued. She wanted to hear his explanation. She thought she deserved it, after what he put her through. "All those thoughts, those horrible things, sent me into a depression deeper than I had ever thought could exist. I suppose on some level I realized what I was doing, but the depression clouded my mind. I could only think that I would be the cause of your death, and so I had to stop seeing you."   
  
"But how could I do that? Especially when I heard what you said about the way I was acting. I knew then, that I would be the poor man if I did not take the chance, and be with you every moment I could. Even though I could never forgive myself if you were killed by my father. That is why I am selfish. Can you forgive me for that, Hermione?"   
  
She placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking gently. "There is nothing to forgive, Draco. But if you feel there is need, then yes. I could forgive you anything, Draco, and perhaps that is *my* selfishness. Because if I did not forgive you, we would grow apart, in more than one way. I would not live through that, or at least live happily. I can't give you up, and so anything you do is perfect to me. It's wrong and horribly skewed, but I can't help it."   
  
"Well, that's what love does to you," he pointed out sagely. They both smiled, and they shared a perfect, simple kiss.   
  
He pulled back slowly. She looked fondly up at him, reveling in his gaze, basking in his smile. She could practically feel his heart beating in her chest.   
  
Her face fell suddenly. She kept returning to the terrible symbolic dream of the Death Eater who had been intent on killing her. She still could not fathom why she would dream such a thing.   
  
Draco noticed the change in her countenance. "What is it, love?" he prompted.   
  
At the name, she melted, and submitted to his arms. She did as he requested, because she could no longer keep it inside to eat away at her faith. "When we were under that tree, and I fell asleep…I had a nightmare. It was awful."   
  
"Will you tell me?"   
  
She nodded, as best she could while enfolded in his arms. She remained in his embrace as she told him the entire dream.   
  
"I killed you, Draco. I don't know…" she trailed off. Hermione really didn't know what she didn't know. There was just something…some mystery to her.   
  
"You still don't believe I'm not evil?" he seemed amused almost, but sad at the same time. She restrained herself from wiping her tears on his robe.   
  
"No! I know you're not evil, Draco. I do know. I just…oh, everything's wrong about this dream! I don't know what it means, about you, about me. I've been trying to figure it out, and I had to tell you."   
  
"Maybe this time, it really was just a dream. It didn't mean anything."   
  
"You really think so?" She sniffled.   
  
"People often combine fears and thoughts in their dreams, and come out with screwed up pictures. Sometimes, dreams mean the opposite. Did you know that if you die in your own dream, it's supposed to mean you'll have a long life?" Draco looked down at her with a smile.   
  
She nodded, wiping her nose with a finger. "Yes, I read about that when I was about twelve."   
  
"Of course. There's nothing I know that you don't know in more detail from some book." He hugged her again, then cupped her chin in his hand. "Don't beat yourself up. I'm sure it was nothing. And I know you didn't *mean* to kill me, so I'll forgive you for that."   
  
She laughed sarcastically. "Why, thank you."   
  
"Now," Draco said, changing the subject. "Where shall we sit for the remaining fifteen minutes of class?"   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Lucius was impatient to act, but waited patiently for the right moment. He had to watch the school carefully, to scout out the right time to put his plan to action. He had been under the effects of a Disillusionment Charm for a prolonged period, but as far as research could tell, it would not have any ill effects. It was simply- uncomfortable. He refused to let it show. He was a Malfoy, after all.   
  
It was actually rather tedious, scouting a moment. You could do nothing, really, to control the circumstances of such a moment as he waited for. You could only wait, and wait he did…for what seemed like a very, very long time.   
  
He contented himself with coming up with more and more tortures to inflict upon his son. It occurred to him that it would hurt Draco more if he tortured the Mudblood, but that was not the kind of revenge he wanted. No, he needed for Draco to suffer physical pain, for the rest of the life Lucius would allow him. He grinned wickedly at the thought, and dragged up the memory of torturing Draco in the woods, not all that long ago. Happy times, those were. Indeed.   
  
When his son had finally drawn the courage to leave the mansion, Lucius had been quite surprised, and on some level, proud, but angrier than he had ever thought to be with his offspring. Draco had always done as he asked, always been obedient and submissive. Lucius had high hopes for him, and had imagined him rising in the ranks of the Death Eaters as quickly as he himself had. That was, of course, before he had *changed*.   
  
If it was possible to spit a thought, Lucius spat that last word. Malfoys did not change. Malfoys had always been Dark wizards, for as long as he could remember. Not just Dark wizards, but the *best* that could be found. Always at the top of the followers of Dark Lords. Feared by even the most sinister of those followers.   
  
Draco had *changed*. There was no other word for it. Even if he, somehow, had not been Dark in any way, he had acted so. Something had to change in him for him to admit who he was. Draco was disappointing. As far as he was concerned, Draco was no longer a Malfoy.   
  
And the reason for that change, Lucius knew, was the Mudblood. Nothing but a little filthy brat could have made Draco do what he did…though why his son had taken up with a Mudblood in the first place, he could not fathom. Malfoys just did not do it. Perhaps some pureblooded wizards, like the accursed James Potter, would sink low enough to marry a Mudblood. Not a Malfoy, never.   
  
Draco was most certainly *not* a Malfoy. The only claim he could possibly have to that name was his blood.   
  
Lucius could not allow his family's name to be smeared with the disgrace of his own son. He could not allow one measly seventeen-year-old boy to destroy the pride of generations, centuries, by the simple, repulsive act of loving a *Mudblood*. Lucius almost shuddered at that. Malfoys were not supposed to care about love, either.   
  
He could not allow it. Draco had to die.   
  
When Draco had left that day, he had sworn to get his revenge. He had sworn that he would not let anything drag the name of Malfoy into the mud. He longed for nothing more than to see the lifeless body of Draco, his son dead by fault of Lucius's own wand, but ultimately his choice in life partner. Oh, he would have been quite content, had Draco simply followed orders and been what he *should* have, but the thought of killing him put a manic gleam in his eye.   
  
Lucius was going to kill Draco, as soon as he could manage to make him suffer to the maximum. Revenge was so, so sweet. All he needed was…  
  
He smirked as the door to the groundskeeper's house was opened. A girl stepped out and began walking toward the castle.   
  
Lucius turned to look at the sky. The sun was just setting. Then another figure caught his eye. It was Draco, and he was approaching the girl.   
  
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. It was perfect.   
  
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~* Alternate Magic  
  
Chapter Sixteen: The Properties of White Shields  
  
There is another kind of shield, aside from the preliminary spells that may be performed. This shield is formed without wands or spells. It is usually formed unconsciously at first, though it can be summoned on command with some practice. The shield varies depending on the sheer power of the witch or wizard.   
  
Most likely, the first time you manage to bring up a shield, you will not even realize you are doing it. It is an instinct, similar to shielding some person or some thing with your body, but magic allows it to happen more effectively to ward off danger.   
  
As you will have read earlier, a very important aspect of alternate magic is emotion. Because alternate magic is done without wands, it needs another force to direct the power. Emotion is the most common of these forces. If you are extremely angry or afraid, your magic will act on its own. Usually this is classified as 'Accidental Magic', and dismissed as such. Sometimes, however, in rare cases, it is known as 'Alternate Magic', and in these cases is usually studied to create better understanding.   
  
The effect of emotion on white shields is very pronounced. Often need is another driving force of alternate magic, and white shields can occur very powerfully with the right need. However, emotion adds strength to the shields such as you would not dream. The proportions cannot be described in so few words. And so it will not be told in detail. There are few emotions that do have this effect on white shields, and none of them are dark feelings. Because it is White magic, and very important at that, only White feelings are permitted to increase the effectiveness of the shield.   
  
The most powerful emotion, for any spell, is love. Hence the phrase 'love conquers all', though that is not always true. For white shields, love is often the only way they can exist. If you are protecting someone you love, or doing something for or in the name of someone you love, your shield will be too powerful for any spell to break through. Only at first, of course, because every shield grows weaker eventually, and then certain spells can shatter any shield, no matter how powerful at the time of origin.   
  
Take care with this information. White shields sap much of your power and energy, and after time they will break down. They cannot be used constantly, and if they are maintained for long enough, you may even die. *~  
  
************************************************************************   
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione were visiting Hagrid- it was the same day as their last Care of Magical Creatures Lesson. Draco did not feel quite comfortable in the groundskeeper's home. He had, after all, tried to get him fired his first year teaching. Things being as they were, Draco did not accompany his girlfriend on her visit.   
  
Instead, he paced the grounds within sight of the hut. He was not sure how long they would be there, or what would happen when Hermione finally came out and joined him, but he could not stop himself.   
  
He had not even realized he was nervous until he realized he was pacing, and then had no idea where the feeling had come from. They were still at Hogwarts, even though they only had two more days of classes, and they were safe at Hogwarts.  
  
Then again, there was the Chamber of Secrets, and the Forbidden Forest, and who knew how many other dangerous things on the grounds. And it seemed that Harry's friends were always the ones who found that danger. *And I'm now one of those. Great…*   
  
Still, knowing all this, he did not go through every day worrying over what might happen. Why then, today, not a special day by any stretch, was he so nervous he paced unconsciously? Why was he suddenly afraid of something horrible happening to people he cared about?   
  
Because he knew his father, he concluded. Their situation, at that moment, seemed too precarious. Harry and Ron, and Hermione, while competent with their knowledge of magic, were not adults, and had not the experience to fight off a Death Eater such as Lucius. Their only supervision was a half-giant whose license to practice magic had been revoked years ago. And the sun was setting…  
  
He concentrated on Hermione, thinking to get away from his own thoughts. She had been wearing a faded pair of flared jeans that day, after classes, and a black hooded sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up past the elbows. This she had left unzipped enough to glimpse her purple tank top. Her hair had been pulled back, and hung in a long, thick ponytail down her back. He smiled. She was always so perfect…   
  
He looked down at himself momentarily. He may act differently, but he still took pride in his looks, and dressed just as immaculately now as he had when he had been acting like a good little mini-Death-Eater. That day, he was wearing plain, perfect black pants and a white shirt, with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. His hair was slicked back as always. He knew he looked perfect. Contented with this, he glanced back toward Hagrid's house…   
  
The door opened. Draco squinted slightly to see who was emerging. Sure enough, it was Hermione. Well, good. He was tired of waiting. He began to walk toward her.   
  
Now something that had been tugging at him caught his attention again. As he paced, he kept thinking he had seen parts of the forest and landscape move, as though some chameleon being was hovering on the edge of action. He dismissed it as overactive imagination, because he knew people saw things more often when they were being paranoid.   
  
He saw what he had dismissed glide toward Hermione, and quickened his pace. He cursed himself for doubting his dread. Since knowing Hermione, he had somehow known that things would come to this, and that he would have to be on guard for it. Of course, on the day he felt most warned, he had to dismiss it. *Curse me with all the horrible dark curses I can drag up if anything happens to her.*   
  
He was close enough now to see her eyes grow wide with fear, and just as he saw the Disillusionment Charm melt away from his father, Hermione's thoughts exploded into his mind. At first he was confused, but realized within seconds that it was the Empathy Solution taking effect at last.   
  
*The Forest, he's taking me to the Forest. Whatever you do, Draco, don't follow. Don't come after me, it's a trap, he'll kill you if you come.*   
  
Draco thought back to her, with fearful certainty, *He'll kill you if I don't.*   
  
He was drawing ever closer, but knew he was too far to prevent it from happening. *Just let it happen. I'll be all right, Draco. I can take care of myself, and I promise I will come back to you-*   
  
As she said this, Draco was within only a few feet of them. He saw the wicked glint in Lucius's eye, and heard Hermione's gasp as her thought cut off, and they disappeared. Draco stopped running suddenly, stopped where they had previously stood.   
  
"The Forest," he repeated quietly. "No…why…it had to be the Forest, you bloody pawn of evil."   
  
"Draco!" Harry called, jogging up to him. Ron followed closely, and both were slightly winded when they got there. "We heard you calling Hermione's name. What happened?"   
  
Draco had not even realized he had spoken her name aloud. His thoughts stopped him from knowing what exactly he was doing. He acted only on instinct. "Lucius, he took her. He took her into the Forest."   
  
"What?!" Ron exclaimed. "Why do you have to have such bloody bastards for relatives?"   
  
"It's only my father," Draco defended, "but that's not important now. I have to go after them. He'll kill her, I know he will. If for no other reason than to cause me pain…but there is another reason, make no mistake. Hermione's a Muggle-born. Now that he has her in his clutches, he won't let go until-"   
  
He cut himself off, knowing what it would take, trusting that he could do it, and knowing that he had to, but unwilling to speak it aloud before the deed was done, for fear of jinxing it.   
  
"How? How will you find them? Unless he left a Portkey that will take you right to them…" Harry did not finish the thought. There was no need.   
  
"I have that all figured out." Draco held up his left hand, displaying to them the silver dragon on his finger. "This will take me directly to Hermione's side. The only problem is what we'll find when we get there."   
  
"We?" Harry repeated suspiciously.   
  
"Well, I don't expect you to stay here. From what I've seen, you've never been one to sit back and watch, hoping everything will turn out all right. You're the one who goes to make it that way."   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged- guilty?- half smiles, and determinedly nodded. "Right. So…what do you think we might find?"   
  
"Possibly us outnumbered by Death Eaters. Possibly Hermione…already…or being tortured… or other things I will not speak of. Possibly this was a trap for all of us, and Voldemort will be there waiting for you, while my father 'deals' with me. I cannot say, I wasn't there when they planned it, and I don't get that information secondhand as much as I used to." He smiled wryly. "But I do know that it will be incredibly dangerous. I know both of you are willing to risk that, but I thought you should be warned in advance."   
  
"That's very thoughtful of you," Harry said, pulling his wand out. Ron did the same. Wondering why he had not already taken his own wand from its place, Draco was suddenly holding his own in his hand.   
  
"So…" Harry began. "How does this work?" He gestured to Draco's hand.   
  
"Both of you will have to touch me," he said. He held his left hand out to Harry, who clasped it firmly. They exchanged a look of determination, one that said both of them were willing to do whatever it took to do whatever needed doing. Harry broke it first, looking over at Ron.   
  
Of all things to do at a time like this, Weasley stood dubiously a few feet away, suspiciously eyeing Draco. "We don't have time for this, Ron!" Harry shouted exasperatedly.   
  
His expression hardened, and he closed the gap between them. "I still don't quite trust you," he said bluntly, "But Hermione does, and so does Harry. And this is the only way we'll get Hermione back."   
  
Ron placed his hand on top of theirs. Draco was reminded ironically of the "hands in" approach to psyching up the Quidditch team. Draco gave Ron the same I'll-die-for-Hermione look he had offered to Harry, and then looked down at his own hand.   
  
*Take us to Hermione,* he willed the ring. He felt a jerk behind his navel, and the world spun before his eyes.   
  
End Chapter 52   
  
Well…I got some reviews for the last chapter. I posted this chapter. Blah blah blah. This chapter is long. Look at me, I know how to state the obvious!   
  
Little tiny dragon portkey confetti. No, it's not activated, you have to do that yourself. 


	54. Interficus Maleficum

Chapter 53- Interficus Maleficum  
  
Without quite knowing how they ended up that way, Draco found himself on the edge of a clearing in the Forbidden forest, with Harry in the exact middle and Ron at the opposite end. Hermione was no more than fifty feet from him.   
  
Obviously, she was charmed not to be able to move from that spot, and her wand had been taken away. As soon as they appeared, she looked frantically at Draco. He called her name, startled at her helplessness.   
  
"Draco, go!" She implored him with her eyes to do as she asked. She did not even appear to see Harry or Ron. "Get out of here before it's-"   
  
"Silencio!" Came a voice from the trees. It was an all too familiar voice.   
  
"Too late," Draco finished for her as Lucius Malfoy stepped into view. Along with at least twenty other Death Eaters…   
  
And Voldemort himself.   
  
Draco turned his head to the side for a moment, looking regretfully away, as he realized to what he had brought them. It was more than likely that none of them would escape the clearing alive. If he had his way, some of their enemies would come to the same.   
  
"Your plan worked wonderfully, Lucius," Voldemort hissed. Draco, while watching the proceedings, never took his eyes from Hermione. She looked with fear between the three of them. "This will not take long, I expect. Expelliarmus!"   
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the spell aimed at Harry. He heard Ron's voice yell "Protego!" a split second later, and a hideous crash as the spells met. Harry had kept his wand.   
  
He could sense Voldemort's lips curling. "I see you intend to make this harder," he snarled. "I don't see why you can't just give in to the inevitable, Potter. You know your destiny is to die by my hand."   
  
"You never did find out the rest of that prophecy, did you, Voldemort?" Harry spat smugly.   
  
The Dark Lord hissed, recoiling at the use of his name. "What's the matter?" Harry asked. "You're afraid of yourself too?"   
  
Afterward, Draco did not hear much of their exchange. He was a bit distracted by his father. Lucius walked back and forth near Hermione, who refused to look at him. He kept twirling his wand between his fingers, then pausing, as though trying to decide which spell to use.   
  
"I have thought about this long and hard, Draco," he said at last. Draco's eyes narrowed as he followed Lucius's progress. "You've never been the son I had wished for. You are a most disappointing- *mistake*." He smirked.   
  
"I think you were the mistake, you as my father," Draco laughed derisively. "How much of a father were you to me? You were nothing. You don't know how to feel. It's amazing you call yourself human."   
  
"She's the one who's not human!" Lucius exclaimed, flinging a hand out to point at Hermione. "A child of Muggles. It's a wonder she's even allowed to live."   
  
He could see, even from the slight distance between them, tears forming in her eyes. He smoldered internally, wishing he could incinerate Lucius with a glare.   
  
"Don't you dare talk about her that way. You should have been drowned at birth. Hermione should never even have had the displeasure of looking upon your face." Draco felt more resentful by the second. His anger grew rapidly. He was only dimly aware of the duel going on off to the side.   
  
It was clear that most of the Death Eaters had instructions simply to keep them from escaping. None of them were joining in the action. At a hasty glance, Draco spotted Harry dueling Voldemort, and Ron being held back by two- or maybe three Death Eaters. They had, apparently, taken his wand.   
  
But he could not let himself be distracted. He had to get Hermione free, and somehow get her out of there. He was too emotional to come up with a real plan, he realized. He knew what he would have to do…   
  
************************************************************************  
  
No spells were directed toward Ron. He wasn't important in Voldemort's plan, he realized. He was just a…pest, he thought with annoyance.   
  
Once again he fought to break out of the grip of the two Death Eaters, but they held him too tightly. His wandless magic was not strong enough to have much effect. He resigned himself to the fact that he could not help Harry.   
  
His gaze returned to Harry and Voldemort, standing in the middle of the clearing. They threw spells back and forth as though no one else was there. Few of them hit, and those the least dangerous. Ron worriedly knew what Harry's expression meant. He was bent on fighting Voldemort, unaware of anything but his worst enemy facing him. In that state, Ron was not sure what Harry would do.   
  
*No matter what you do, I love you, Harry.* Even in thought he spoke in a whisper. He was afraid of what would come beyond this night. Would he and Harry both survive? If Harry didn't, he knew he wouldn't want to. There would be no point in living without him.   
  
Without meaning to, he found himself dragging up all the memories he had of Harry. Their first kiss- which had puzzled and pleased him all at once. Meeting on the train, the giant chessboard, all the time under the Invisibility Cloak, all the times they took Harry away from the Dursleys to stay at the Burrow. That time in fourth year, when they had been fighting.   
  
*At least if one of us dies, we'll never fight again,* he thought with dry humor. He pictured Harry dying, and suddenly felt weak. He could do nothing, could not even cast a simple spell to aid him.   
  
His attention shifted again when he saw a wand pointed in his direction. It was Voldemort's. He did not hear the spell, but it did not matter, because it never reached him. He felt a field of power all around him, and suddenly he was warm and indescribably happy. He knew what had happened. Harry had cast a white shield around him, with the help of his love, and Ron felt his own love grow. And his strength.   
  
"You'll never hurt Ron while I live!" Harry proclaimed, growling.   
  
Ron used a simple bit of wandless magic to simulate the skin on the hands of his captors burning. They cried out and let go. He summoned his wand to him quickly. Death Eaters came at him, and he sent spells in their direction without thinking. Their own attempts bounced off the shield Harry held in place. Soon many of them were stunned, either physically or mentally- because they would not expect a mere *child* to be capable of so much. The ones who were not unconscious by the end were either injured or bound with magical ropes.   
  
"Up until now I have been testing you," Voldemort says, his voice an echoing hiss. "Though I have no desire other than to see you dead, I do like to have my fun. But now, The Boy Who Simply *Will Not Die* will die, killed by me. Say goodbye, Potter."   
  
Ron turned at these words, fearing for Harry's life. He saw the look Harry wore, and his worry melted away.   
  
Voldemort struck. "Avad-"   
  
************************************************************************   
  
"Let her go now, scum, and I might let you off easy," Draco spat at his father.   
  
Lucius laughed heartily. "You will let me off! Bold words, for someone about to die."   
  
"If I die, I'm taking you with me," Draco told him dangerously. "You deserve no better than to die by the hand of your own son, who hates you beyond description, by the way."   
  
"And you deserve less than to be killed by a Death Eater. It is too high an honor for you."   
  
"Then I suppose you won't be killing me. That makes my task easier."   
  
Draco realized that Hermione could hear every word he said, in the back of his mind, but he could not stop himself. Though he did not want her to see him this way, his anger was too great. He could not resist the feelings boiling within him.   
  
"Sadly I must give you that much honor," Lucius said, seeming regretful. "Though it is more than you deserve, I've already set my mind to seeing you die. And *I* will be the one to kill you."   
  
"All my life, I have known you were no better than this!" Draco shouted. "I may have acted like Potter was my worst enemy, but that's all it was- an act. You have always been my enemy! Ever since I was born! No one else tortured me with an Unforgivable when I was three years old! It's like you've had the Dementor's Kiss. No one with a soul could have done anything of the sort!"   
  
"Fool of a boy," Lucius said quietly. "Do you really think I care?"   
  
Draco's angered expression turned to one of realization. If Lucius did have a soul or a heart, both were fashioned of ice. He had always believed that even underneath all the malice, there was some true emotion of some sort. It was not true. Lucius really was incapable of feeling. And he did not want to.   
  
"Feelings make you weak. Why would I want that? Do you know what will be the cause of your death, Draco?" He walked to Hermione, and took her face roughly in a hand. She tugged at his arm, but could not remove him. She resorted to sending a desperate look to Draco, whose rage increased. "This is the cause of your death. She's your weakness, because you feel for her." He uncaringly let her out of his grip. "How touching."   
  
His voice was as dripping with sarcasm as Draco had ever heard it. "I had thought it might be entertaining to torture her and make you watch, but I don't have the time for that." His wand directed a spell toward Hermione.   
  
"Stupefy Totalus!"   
  
Draco did not think. He could only feel the shield go up around her, and block off any spells, but it was too late. Lucius's spell had hit. Hermione fell to the ground. At the same time, another white shield when up across the clearing.   
  
"Hermione!" Draco shouted. He pointed his wand at his father, uttering, "Expelliarmatus!" Lucius flew backward a good distance, his wand blown to some spot away from him.   
  
This taken care of, Draco ran to Hermione's side. When he took her in his arms, the shield encompassed him as well. He pointed his wand carefully at her, and spoke. "Ennervate."   
  
She remained as still as before. There was no sign of consciousness on her lovely, suddenly pale face. Only stillness and silence. "Ennervate!" This time it was more desperate. It should have worked. She should be up and well by then, with her wand in hand. His father had altered the spell, he remembered. What had he put at the end of it? "*Finite Incantato*!"   
  
Then he remembered. *Totalus*. How would that change the effect of the spell?   
  
Lucius's laugh sounded behind him. Draco turned, anger turning his vision red. "Like the spell? I modified it myself."   
  
He was twirling a wand in his fingers, but it was not his own. Draco recognized it. Hermione's wand.   
  
"Now, all I have been waiting for is about to take place. Oh, I do so love revenge." He pointed the wand with careless grace.   
  
Draco was quicker.   
  
Two voices spoke the same spell. "Interficus Maleficum!"   
  
Both spells hit their target with a blinding white light. Two bodies dropped to the forest floor, lifeless.   
  
End Chapter 53  
  
AAAHHH!! Please don't hurt me!!! *Fends off reviewers who wanted to see this chapter as soon as they were done with the last one.* I meant to post this earlier, I just didn't.   
  
This chapter is not as long as I expected/wanted, even after I added the part from Ron's point of view. But whatever. Hey, opportunity for house points here! As long as you specify your house. Question 1: who are the two characters that died? Question 2: Who killed them? Ten points for each correct answer, for a possible total of forty points. This is really easy, so I should see a lot of right answers. So far, Hufflepuff is the only house with any points. (See chapter 43 for challenge, which is closed now. Sorry.)   
  
Review for…um…forest confetti? Kind of? 


	55. A Fallen Warrior

Chapter 54- A Fallen Warrior  
  
Assured that Lucius was dead, Draco at last felt a weight lift from his heart. The shadow of a threat that had hovered over him and Hermione for so long was gone, blown away as though by a gust of wind. Lucius's body was still, facedown, his hair spread over the ground.   
  
Curious as to what had been going on around him, Draco directed his attention to where he had heard Harry's voice intone a spell only moments before. Though he had expected it, he was startled to see Voldemort's body on the ground.   
  
Funny, he did not look dead. But the evil in the air was diminished, and they knew he was. The Dark wizard always looked dead, because he wasn't really alive in the way that most people are. The Death Eaters, the ones still conscious, were staring at the body of their leader in shock. Most of them had believed he would never die. Draco snorted at the thought- or, he would have snorted, had he been the type.   
  
As they watched, the body of the former Dark Lord began to fade, until it disappeared in a puff of smoke. He had probably cast a spell to leave no remains in the event of his death. Harder to prove he was really dead, Draco supposed.   
  
The danger was gone for the moment, he realized. He let his white shield diminish, and the glow around Weasley faded as well as Harry had the same thought. The Gryffindors approached him, fixing Hermione with wary, worried looks.   
  
"What happened to her?" Harry asked, almost silently.   
  
"She's alive," Draco answered. "She's merely unconscious. She was stunned by Lucius. I tried to revive her, but it didn't work. He…he used a modified spell. I don't know how to counter it."  
  
None of them spoke for a few minutes. Draco held Hermione, able to do nothing but hope she would awaken.   
  
Ron turned one of the unconscious Death Eaters over with a foot. "What do we do with these bastards?" he wondered.   
  
Harry surveyed the clearing. "Did you really do all that?"   
  
"Why yes, I suppose I did. Only because someone put a shield on me and their attacks had no effects." Harry smiled. "So what do we do with them?" he repeated.   
  
Harry shrugged. "We should probably go back to the castle, get Dumbledore, he'll take care of them. Or throw them all in Azkaban, whatever."   
  
Draco looked at the fallen form of his father. "They deserve it," he muttered. "They deserve to be beaten and stuffed for the things they did. But the most they'll get is life in Azkaban. Maybe some of them will be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss," he said hopefully.   
  
"Yeah, maybe." Harry stared at the ground. Then he shook his head, clearing it of unbidden memories, and looked back to Draco.   
  
"I think we've been forgetting the most important question, Ron," he said. "What do we do about Hermione?"   
  
"I didn't forget," Ron protested. "I just can't think of anything."   
  
Another uneasy silence fell over them, like a cloud of dark uncertainty. They did not want to look at Hermione that way for another second, none of them, but they did not know how to change it. And so they simply stared at her.   
  
"Do you think she's going to die?" Ron asked in less than a whisper.   
  
Draco's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed in a glare. "Of course not," he spat, drawing on a bit of his abandoned enmity. He had to convince himself of his answer, after all. "I won't let that happen."   
  
"Neither will I," Harry affirmed. He refused to take his eyes off her, and Draco regretted that he had done so. He might miss something important. His eyes moved over her face, taking in her pale, somnolent beauty.   
  
Ron seemed to be clearing his throat to say something, but he never spoke. He sounded almost like he was crying- but Weasley would never cry in front of him. He just wouldn't.   
  
"Hermione," Draco uttered quietly, gently stroking her cheek. "I need you here to tell me how to fix this. You would know. Please, come back. Wake up."   
  
"Draco…" Harry said.   
  
"What?" his own voice was as hoarse as the others'.   
  
"Don't. It's not going to help."   
  
Draco raised his eyes- against his better judgement. Harry was still staring at Hermione. He seemed to be watching her breathe, to make sure she didn't stop. "It will be all right, Harry. I swore to myself I would not let Lucius take her away from me. I'll find a way to wake her up, if it kills me."   
  
"I thought you would say that."   
  
He was well aware that she would not want him to do anything of the sort, but that was just too bad. She wasn't conscious to talk him out of it, and he would not let her stay that way.   
  
"We should take her back to Hogwarts, at least," Ron suggested. He had regained his voice, apparently. "Maybe Madame Pomfrey can do something for her."   
  
"You really think she'll be able to help?" Draco asked skeptically.   
  
"I don't know. She is a specialist, you know."   
  
"Yes, I know. Well, whether or not Pomfrey can do anything, we still need to get back to the castle. It's not as though we could stay here forever."   
  
"I wholeheartedly agree," Harry put in. "Because there are certain things in this forest I am not particularly anxious to meet tonight." He looked around at the trees as he said this, rolling his wand between his hands. "Or any other night."   
  
Nodding, Draco shifted his arms to a better position to lift Hermione. Before he could move another inch, however, a foreboding sound pounded in his ears. "What is that?" he growled to himself.   
  
"What is what?" Ron wondered. Harry looked at Draco with an expression that said the same thing.   
  
"You don't hear it?" They shook their heads. Draco listened more closely. "It sounds like- like…" Looking up, he fixed his eyes sharply on Harry. "Harry, there are centaurs headed our way. Is that good or bad?"   
  
Harry's eyes went wide and darted wildly about, he turned slowly in circles, peering through the trees as though he expected a dangerous enemy to emerge any second.   
  
So bad.   
  
Draco tightened one arm around Hermione, and in the other gripped his wand with ease. The hoof beats grew louder, and louder, and louder. Harry and Ron grew more nervous. Draco assumed it was because they could hear the approach.   
  
He tried to decide where they would come. It could be in front of him, or behind him, or from either side. The hooves were giving him no clues. Unless-   
  
His thought was cut off by the appearance of five or six centaurs ahead of him. They had crossbows leveled. He raised his wand, but before he could say one syllable of a spell, he had been grabbed from behind by a pair of impressively strong Centauri arms. The arms encircled him tightly, the spot they pressed probably holding some vital organ. He struggled, but he was no match for the centaur with the unfair advantage.   
  
Worse, he had dropped his wand in the…scuffle, if you could call it that, and now had no hope of retrieving it. He turned his head- he could at least move that much- to see Harry and Ron held similarly. *Great, neither of them had managed to have the thought that maybe it would have been helpful to escape.* Indeed that would have been nice, but he should have known better. Bravery and cunning just don't go together. Except in Hermione's case.   
  
"Magorian, this one has been in here before," one of the centaurs said. He was pointing at Harry. "Recently. He claimed Auror training, I claim he was lying."   
  
"Ronan, you claim that about everyone and everything. Still, I am curious as to why you are here. I assume the rest of them are also being trained as Aurors."   
  
Draco was staring at Harry, who swallowed. "No."   
  
"No? Then what are you doing here?"   
  
"Well, I was killing Voldemort, but now he's dead, so I was about to leave." Draco held in the urge to snort- partially because his breathing was constricted as it was- at the rather sarcastic comment.   
  
"Prove it."   
  
Harry said nothing. Voldemort's body had disappeared. There was no proof, except one involving the wand. Draco was pretty sure that one was out of the question.   
  
"I thought so," Magorian snarled. "Centauri." This appeared to be an order, as a few of them stepped forward, and before he could think, Draco's hands were bound and he had been thrown to the ground.   
  
He stood, taking a step toward where Hermione lay, but found the point of a crossbow at his throat in less than a second. "Move, and you are dead." He stopped.   
  
It took only moments for Harry and Ron to be similarly bound. When this had been done, they were dragged over to a large tree, and their hands tied to branches above their heads. Draco was stretched so that his feet barely reached the ground. He pulled as hard as he could, but the ropes and the branch were too strong. He could see his wand on the ground, half hidden among the leaves, and wished it was in his hand.   
  
"What about this one?" he heard from one of the centaurs. "What should we do with her?"   
  
The one called Magorian trotted to her. "I don't know, is she alive?"   
  
There was a pause. "Yes. She's still breathing."   
  
Another pause, as he considered what they should do. "We'll bring her. I'm sure we'll think of some use for her. These three can be left here. Some forest creature or other will find them eventually and finish them off."   
  
Draco tugged harder on his bonds. "Leave her alone, you bastards!"   
  
In a flash, a hand had gripped his throat, cutting off his air supply. He found himself looking into the fiery eyes of the centaur called Ronan, who apparently did not take kindly to insults.   
  
"If you wish to live longer than the next minute, you will hold your tongue."   
  
The hand released him, and he proceeded to cough painfully. His lungs did not seem to want to cooperate, making breathing rather difficult, and he could already feel bruises forming on his neck where Ronan had held him.   
  
"Draco," Harry called. "Are you all right?"   
  
He could not answer, not having regained enough air as of yet, but he nodded and hoped Harry would be able to see it, and would stop bothering him.   
  
"Be careful with her though. We don't want to damage her- at least, not yet." A few of them laughed, and Draco felt a meaningful glance thrown in his direction. He gritted his teeth, then ungritted them because that made it harder to breath. That damned horse must have damaged his windpipe.   
  
A heavy footstep sounded. Then another, quite soon after. They were fast-paced and headed toward them.   
  
"Something large is coming," Weasley said helpfully. Surprisingly, the centaurs had stopped moving. They seemed to be anticipating what might come. Every one of them had taken to standing stock still.   
  
"That really doesn't sound good," Harry said, thirty seconds later.   
  
*No, really, you think?* Draco wondered what could be coming, and resigned himself to painful death. He couldn't really do anything about it, tied as he was, and his wand lying too far away. He didn't have enough energy left to use wandless magic.  
  
The thing- whatever it was- was almost upon them. There were other footsteps, lighter, even faster, and more hoof beats. More centaurs, perhaps? *That* would help.   
  
The huge, heavy footsteps were only a small distance away now. The centaurs were spurred into action, and they all formed a line, readying themselves against the threat.   
  
"We'll not let them take our forest from us!" Ronan called. He uttered some indistinguishable battle cry.   
  
It had almost broken the trees. Whatever came, was so close they should be able to see it through the fringe of the forest- it broke into the clearing, and Draco attempted to sigh with relief. He did not succeed, and decided that he had sighed internally.   
  
"Hagrid!" Harry called gleefully.   
  
Close behind him were Firenze, a centaur who had been working at the castle, Professor Dumbledore, Snape, and Lyipin. They shot spells at the centaurs, and the half-horses started to bolt away.   
  
Fearing for Hermione, Draco called, "No!" but no sound escaped his lips. In frustration, he began to struggle again, though he was causing the ropes to break into his skin. He didn't care.   
  
Harry seemed to understand what he was trying to do, and called out, "Get Hermione!"   
  
Draco saw Dumbledore move quickly, and within moments the centaurs were gone, and Hermione lay on the ground protected by a wall of teacher. Professor Lyipin severed their ties with a simple cutting spell, and Draco fell to his knees. He did not rub his wrists- it would only have irritated the wounds- or his neck. He was not concerned with himself. All injuries on his body had gone numb.   
  
Using wandless magic, as the numbness had allowed him to forget completely his lack of energy, he brought his wand into his hand. As he moved he felt the rips in the sleeves and back of his shirt, but ignored them. Keeping his wand in his hand, he rushed to Hermione's side, and was relieved to find that even now she lived.   
  
"What happened here, Malfoy?" Snape demanded. He had to smirk. Even in these circumstances, the Potions master asked him first. Too bad he couldn't speak.   
  
"Severus, now is not the time. These students must be brought back to Hogwarts. Once their injuries have been taken care of, we can find out their story. Now, they need to be tended to."   
  
Draco only half-heard the headmaster's speech. He assumed he would create a Portkey for them to be transported safely and quickly to the castle, and certainly would not object. He needed to bring Hermione to a safe place as quickly as possible.   
  
Sure enough, Dumbledore muttered "Portus" after his brief speech, and he instructed them to take it back to the castle, and give Madame Pomfrey a note he handed to Harry.   
  
"Draco, come on," Harry urged.   
  
"You three, make sure Miss Granger is in a bed as soon as possible. We'll take care of all these Death Eaters."   
  
Draco turned to face them only after he had lifted Hermione into his arms. He carried her over to Ron and Harry, where the Portkey was waiting.   
  
End Chapter 54  
  
Aw…poor Draco. Poor Hermione. What have I done to J.K.'s characters? They won't want to come out when she's finally ready to actually write the sixth book…even though it probably won't be for another five years.   
  
The chapter title refers, of course, to Hermione, in case it was not clear to anyone.   
  
Good job to everyone who earned house points! Lyra Silvertongue2, short puppy, slytherin (who did not specify their house but I assume it's slytherin…), Allie, Zaptor, Tamurl07. If you guessed correctly and did not specify your house, you did not receive any points…sorry. Next time, check before you send it. Slytherin is now in the lead by fifty points. Hufflepuff is second.   
  
The next chapter will be here soon… but until then, review for your confetti!! Since so many people seem to want some, I'll be giving you Draco-shaped confetti. 


	56. Surrounded By Nothing

Chapter 55- Surrounded By Nothing  
  
Draco rubbed at the spot where the ropes had cut into his skin. It was still red, but healed over well enough. His neck had been healed as well, though the bruises showed, and he was able to breathe and talk as well as ever.   
  
They were explaining to Dumbledore what had happened. They were in the hospital wing because Draco refused to leave Hermione. At that moment, he was sitting next to her on her bed, and had her hand in his.   
  
Harry had just described how he killed Voldemort. Draco had already told his story, and so Dumbledore knew that Lucius and Voldemort had died at exactly the same time.   
  
"When you told me that prophecy, I thought I would have to use Avada Kedavra on him," Harry said. "That scared me. I didn't want to kill anyone, and I didn't want to use Dark magic. Then I found that Interficus Maleficum…you knew about that all along, didn't you, Professor?"   
  
Draco could tell by the headmaster's expression that he had. He nodded once.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me, then?"   
  
"Harry, things like this have to take their own course. I was not even sure you were going to be the one to survive it, because the prophecy was so unsure. As it was, I knew that if you did survive, you would kill him one way or another, and which way did not really matter. The method is not what counts, Harry, though I am glad you read 'Alternate Magic' all the way through."   
  
Draco looked down at Hermione. She was so peaceful. She looked like she was merely asleep, but he knew better. He squeezed her hand, hoping that somehow she would feel it and know he was there.   
  
They had finished up to the part where Dumbledore himself arrived in about twenty minutes. The headmaster seemed to have taken the entire thing in stride- even the part where Draco killed his father.   
  
"Harry, may I see your wand for a moment?"   
  
Harry handed over his wand. Dumbledore tapped the wand with his own, declaring, "Priori Incantato!" A tiny, white-smoke version of Voldemort dying was replayed from the end of the wand.   
  
"In case we are asked to prove Voldemort's death, Harry, I would ask you not to perform any magic for a while with your own wand."   
  
"Yes, Professor," Harry took back the wand and pocketed it, his mental note visible on his face. "Don't do any magic with my wand. Got it."   
  
Madame Pomfrey came bustling in at that moment. "Headmaster, I really must insist that you let my patients rest," she huffed. "They have been through a terrible ordeal, and it's not even been a full day yet. Really. Almost every year the three of them have been in here, though I see Mr. Malfoy has joined them this year, and every year you have to come in here and disrupt their recovery! Oh, I'm sorry Albus…"   
  
"It's all right, Poppy. I was just about to leave, anyway."   
  
"Oh, one moment." She seemed to be considering something. "What was the spell used against the girl again?"   
  
Dumbledore looked to Draco, who turned his gaze to Hermione and did not speak. "It was a modified spell, 'Stupefy Totalus'."   
  
"I don't believe that's ever been used before. Well, I really am stumped. I can't come up with anything to help her. I think we'll just have to wait and see this time. If she doesn't wake up soon, however…"   
  
"What, Poppy?" Dumbledore prompted.   
  
"The effects of the spell will become permanent."   
  
Draco looked up incredulously, despair glazing over his eyes. "How long?"   
  
Madame Pomfrey looked directly at him. "Six days. A week from when the spell was cast."   
  
Five days went by, with no sign of consciousness from Hermione. Harry, Ron, and Draco were released from the hospital wing the day after their talk with Dumbledore, but Draco spent most of his time there. He left to shower and change clothes, and once in a while to eat. He did nothing else but sit at Hermione's side, praying she would wake up.   
  
"Mister Malfoy, I am afraid your time is up. It's late, you need to get your rest. This is not healthy."   
  
"Just a few more minutes, Madame Pomfrey." He had yet to plead with Hermione to wake up. He had planned to do this, but as of yet that day he had simply sat by her side.   
  
The nurse left with a sympathetic smile. Draco stroked Hermione's hair and face, finally bringing his hand down to hers. Now he was holding both her hands in his.   
  
"Hermione, where are you? Why haven't you come back yet? If you were here you would never stand for this. I know, you would be screaming at yourself to wake up, then going to find a solution in the library. But the library can't answer my questions. Not this time."   
  
"All I ever wanted was you, Hermione. You are the best thing that has happened in my life, and I won't let that be taken away from me. I don't care if the price for you waking up is that you don't love me anymore, I don't care. They can take it if they have to. Just please, please don't stay this way."   
  
"You were not meant to be like this. You're meant to be awake, alive, full of energy, the way I have always known you. Not like this. And this is your last chance to wake up, because tomorrow night it will all be over. Please, Hermione, wake up. If you don't, I know I'll die, because there is no difference between your life and mine."   
  
As he had done every night, he leaned forward and kissed her gently. He sat back down, resting his head near where he held her hands. He felt his eyelids drooping… drooping… and his thoughts become less and less coherent, until there were none at all.   
  
************************************************************************   
  
She was surrounded by darkness. No, not darkness, because she could see herself perfectly well. She was surrounded by nothing. It was the only explanation.   
  
She held her hand up in front of her. It felt as though someone held it, but no one else was there. It was nice though. It was almost like Draco was there with her. She smiled contentedly.   
  
But he was not there. She was completely alone. Her face fell. It was all very well and good to feel Draco with her, it was another thing to have him there. She turned in a circle, hoping to glean something from her surroundings. But as she turned she realized that there really were no surroundings. She truly was surrounded by nothing.   
  
She looked down, perplexed. She was not standing on anything, but felt completely supported. "Nothing sure makes a sturdy floor."   
  
She had heard nothing, but when she looked up, she gasped. Figures were now all around her in the nothing, floating above and below her, encircling her. She studied them, and was surprised that she was able to put a name to some of them.   
  
"Pluto…Hades…Kali Maa…Anubis… Dispater, Donn, Arawn- but then, you're…?" There was even one figure cloaked in black, with a deep hood, skeletal hands, and a long-handled scythe.   
  
"Yes," they said. They did not speak quite simultaneously, but they all said the same thing, in a mix of quiet voices. "We are Death."   
  
This took a moment to sink in, even for one such as Hermione. "So- am I…?"   
  
"No," they replied, seeming disappointed, impatient and indifferent all in one. Well, really it was more like in thirty or forty, because there were so many of them. "You are not dead. You would be. In normal circumstances, you would have been dead almost a week ago. However, someone- intervened on your behalf."   
  
A figure began to appear before her, and condensed as she watched. Soon he was translucent enough for her to recognize him.   
  
"Eros!"   
  
"That's right, Mione," he said. She almost rolled her eyes and told him not to call her that, but she restrained herself. It was hardly the moment for nitpicking. "Your love is too deep to throw away."   
  
"Um, you're still a bit translucent," she pointed out.   
  
"Well, this is not my realm, so becoming completely opaque is out of the question. However that's not what matters now. What matters is why you're not dead."   
  
"So why?" She had to wait another minute while Eros straightened his shirt.   
  
"Right. Well, when I found out what was happening I went to Fate, and Lachesis- the one who measures them, you know- told me your thread was quite a bit longer. You've got a few years to go, and mainly because your thread is knotted hopelessly with that of another."   
  
"Draco?"   
  
Eros grinned. "You got it, sweetie. I was right about you. You're smart. So I came to talk to Deaths, as I call her, because there are so many forms- though many of them are male, the original Death is a female. Deaths agreed that I have a good claim on you, and she can't take you yet. So we had to think of a way to get you out of here."   
  
"Where is this?"   
  
"This is the Otherworld, ruled over by a nameless power. Many people between life and death find themselves here for long stretches of time. Well, the only way we can take you away from here is if the claimant leads you out- that's me. The only way *I* could get here is if Deaths led me in- that's them. So they're here, I'm here, and you're here, and the two of us are about to leave."   
  
"And I'll wake up in my body?"   
  
"Cross my heart."   
  
Hermione supposed saying something like that meant more to the god of love than it would to most others. His entire life revolved around the heart, after all.   
  
"So how is it that Death can be fully- here, if it's ruled over by someone else?"   
  
"Deaths has a special relationship with this place. Since it is so close to her realm. Come on, Hermione. Just take my hand, and you'll be awake within seconds."   
  
Smiling, her heart beating faster, she reached out her hand. It clasped with Eros's, and the nothing around them turned momentarily to a brilliant white. Then, there was darkness.   
  
*What happened? Oh, wait a minute.* She slowly forced her eyes open, and found herself in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. It was an all too familiar sight, and a comforting one. Eros hovered above her. He smiled, then glanced toward her stomach, grinned, and disappeared.   
  
Hermione shook her head. She moved her hands up to rub at her eyes, which were not used to being open, but they were constricted somehow. She peered down the bed, and her lips curled upward. There, resting on the side of the bed, was Draco, and he held both her hands in his own.   
  
"Draco," she said quietly, hoping it would be enough to wake him. It wasn't. He continued to doze. She moved her leg sharply, her knee connecting with his arm.   
  
He started awake, and she laughed silently. He rubbed his face to wake himself up, and then looked at her. "Hermione, you're awake." His voice was calm, but his eyes were ecstatically overjoyed. "Harry and Ron will be glad to hear that. They've been up here every day since…"   
  
Her face had fallen when she saw Draco's neck. A dark bruise reminiscent of a handprint colored his neck. She reached out and placed her fingers gently on the injury.   
  
He covered her hand with his, bringing it up to his cheek instead. "It's fine, Hermione. Don't worry about me. How are you feeling?"   
  
"Surprisingly good." He had said every day since…something. "How long have I been… um, asleep?"   
  
"Six days, almost to the minute the spell was cast."   
  
"Six days! Oh, you sure took your time, Eros."   
  
"Has he been bothering you again?"   
  
"No, actually, he kind of saved me from death."   
  
"What?!"   
  
"I'll tell you the story on the train home. It's only, what, two days?"   
  
"That's right, it's- oh, wow. The leaving feast is tomorrow! I hardly realized what day it was. I've been here most of the time."   
  
She smiled. "Oh, Draco. That's so sweet of you. How worried were you?"   
  
"Oh, you have no idea, Hermione. Probably about how worried you were when my broomstick showed up at your window. Or more."   
  
Remembering that night, fearing the worst, she felt her heart ache for him. "I'm sorry I made you worry."   
  
"Well, technically is was Madame Pomfrey. She told me you might die, and so I just *had* to worry, you know?"   
  
"I can't believe she did that. But it was better than not telling you, I suppose. Draco… what would you have done, had I died?"   
  
"I don't even want to think about it, actually. But I probably would have died, too."   
  
Hearing this, she opened her arms to him, and he climbed onto the bed next to her, and they lay locked in embrace for quite a while.   
  
"Mister Malfoy, you really do have to leave. It's so late, and what you're doing isn't help- Mister Malfoy!" They drew apart at Madame Pomfrey's scandalized gasp.   
  
"It's all right," Hermione told her. "I'm awake."   
  
She breathed a sigh of relief, then started scolding them for acting that way in a hospital, then turned on Malfoy for "bothering my patient". She had shoed him out within five minutes.   
  
Hermione settled back onto her pillows with a smile. "Do you need anything, Miss Granger? Does anything hurt?"   
  
"No," she answered. "Everything is perfect."   
  
End Chapter 55   
  
No cliffhanger this time, and it's not because I'm feeling generous, but we'll just say it is.   
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed! To those of you who mentioned it, I never intended for Hermione to die. I did think about it once, but the story would have been too difficult to resolve if she died… to much depression at the end. I would probably just have to end it with her death… anyway, I don't usually kill off the good guys… oh wait, never mind.   
  
And just in case you were wondering, Pluto and Hades are *not* the exact same god. Since one is Roman and one is Greek, you know…   
  
Review for Anubis-head confetti. It's cooler than it sounds. 


	57. Inter House Unity

Chapter 56- Inter-House Unity  
  
or  
  
In Which Our Leading Lady Cries Profusely  
  
Draco and Hermione were sitting in the corner of the library. She had dragged him there a few hours before, early that day. It was her last day at Hogwarts, the last chance she would have to just sit in the library and enjoy the books around her- at least, as a student. She wasn't reading, just sitting. Draco, she knew, was staring at her.   
  
Her hand sat comfortably in his, resting on the table. Once in a while a student or two would walk past, then begin to whisper excitedly. Everyone knew they had disappeared a week ago, along with Ron and Harry, for half a night. There was much speculation as to what had happened.   
  
"Hermione!" someone called loudly as they made their way over. She looked up to see Harry and Ron nearly running, and they reached the table breathlessly.   
  
"Boys, please conduct yourselves appropriately. This is a library," Madame Pince rebuked them, but she was smiling. Hermione had talked to her earlier, and the woman had told her that she was going to miss her and her friends.   
  
"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, and she left them alone. "We were just at the hospital wing."   
  
"Madame Pomfrey told us you woke up last night," Ron added. "How are you feeling?"   
  
"Fine," she replied. "How are you two?"  
  
"We're all right." Harry glanced at Ron and Draco, then stared at a point over her head. "Has… has Draco told you what happened that night, after…you know."   
  
One of her eyebrows arched up in surprise. "No, *Draco* has not told me yet. Only of his part. Why?"   
  
"Well, I thought you should hear from me…" Harry took a seat close to her at the table, and leaned in to tell her quietly that Voldemort was dead.   
  
"Really?!" She squealed, then glanced toward Madame Pince's desk. When next she spoke, her voice was lowered. "I mean, really? Harry, you mean it? He's actually dead?"   
  
"Yes," he said firmly. "I killed him myself."   
  
"Oh, Harry. You didn't-"   
  
"No, I used Interficus Maleficum."   
  
She breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. Has the Minister been told yet?"   
  
"Fudge? Who knows. It's possible. But it doesn't matter much, because I think Dumbledore is planning to tell all the students at the leaving feast. The teachers already know- what?"   
  
Hermione's eyes had begun to brim with tears at the words "leaving feast". "I can't believe this is our last day at Hogwarts!"   
  
"Hermione, it's not that bad. We'll be able to come back and visit. And we'll be sure to see each other as often as we can, you know?" Harry attempted to cheer her up.   
  
"But it's our last day!" She bawled. Apparently the three boys gave up, because they did not speak for a while. Draco's arm went around her shoulders, and she was glad for the comfort.   
  
"It's okay, Hermione," Ron assured her. "It's only natural to be kind of emotional right now. You had a very traumatic experience, after all- even though you were unconscious during some of it. Almost being carried off to who knows where in the forest-"   
  
"What do you mean almost carried off?" she sniffed curiously.   
  
Ron was looking at Draco, who was making some kind of gesture that she couldn't see. "Oh…nothing."   
  
Harry was not so easily swayed. "You mean you didn't tell her yet?"   
  
"Tell me what?" She turned to look Draco in the eye. He regarded her for a moment, then sighed in resignation.   
  
"Well, after Lucius and Voldemort were killed, we… we thought you weren't going to make it, and we kind of stood around talking for a while. Centaurs surrounded us, tied us to a tree and intended to take you away with them. That's when Hagrid and the rest showed up."   
  
"Wait a minute," she said, recovering her composure in the face of irritation. "I was almost carried off by *centaurs*, and you weren't going to tell me?"   
  
"Well, I didn't think it was the right time, you know-"   
  
"Bollocks! What were you thinking, Draco! We're about to go live together, and you're already keeping secrets from me!" She started to cry again.   
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione, really. I really was going to tell you, just not now. Don't cry."   
  
She waved off Draco's concern. "It's not that, it's just… *sob* I'm going to miss my parents!" She fell into his arms.   
  
Hearing a whisper close by, she turned her head to the side and objected, "Excuse me, Ron, but I am not emotional."   
  
"Denial. Another sure sign of trauma."   
  
There was silence for a few seconds. "All right, maybe I'm a little emotional…"   
  
"Well, look at that! She's starting to come around," Ron said proudly. "Our Hermione can weather any storm." He applauded politely. The rest of them laughed, Hermione still in the midst of tears.   
  
Not an hour later, she found herself in her dormitory, packing her belongings into her trunk- aside from the clothes she would wear on the following day, and her wand. A tear dropped at each item she laid carefully on top of the pile. Now that it was so close to leaving time, she realized just how much she would miss the school.   
  
Someone knocked on her door, which she had closed to give herself more privacy. "Who is it?" she sniffed. It could not be Draco- he couldn't get that close to her room.   
  
"It's Parvati and Lavender," the visitors replied. Hermione went to the door and opened it quickly, to find her former dorm-mates wiping tears away as well.   
  
"We just wanted to say goodbye," Lavender explained. "We didn't want to do it at the train station and make a scene, you know."   
  
They all stood hugging and crying for the next half hour. They might gossip and whine a lot, but really, Lavender and Parvati weren't that bad, Hermione thought as she clung to them.   
  
"We'll see each other again. Let's all make sure we keep in contact, okay?" Hermione sniffled.   
  
"Definitely," Parvati sobbed. Lavender simply blubbered even more. They stayed in Hermione's room, talking, for so long, that they ended up going down to the leaving feast together.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
It was a feast quite unlike any Hogwarts had ever given. They were at last sending off the hero of the wizarding world. There was a large 'Goodbye, Harry Potter' banner hanging over the tables.   
  
Draco thought he looked rather embarrassed about it.   
  
He was sitting at the Gryffindor table because Hermione had asked him to. He was squeezed between her and Ginny, who had been one of the quickest to accept him. Across from them sat Ron and Harry, passing each other meaningful glances about every five seconds.   
  
The food was of such a marvelous variety that Draco hardly knew what to choose. In the end, he had a little bit of everything he could reach. To no one's surprise, Ron continued to eat long past the point when the rest of them were full to bursting. Harry tried to get him to take his face out of his plate, but Ron was stuck on the food.   
  
Giving them time to digest their dinner, Dumbledore stood to make his end of year speech.   
  
"Well, boys and girls, it has been quite a year. Quidditch came with some surprises-" Draco raised his eyebrow smugly at the Gryffindors- "…we were given surpassing dances and decorations by our Head Boy and Girl, and too many other things to name."   
  
"Now, comes the biggest and happiest news I think any of us have heard in a long time. Since he came here, Harry Potter has seemed to get into some kind of trouble every year." The entire hall craned their necks to see the mentioned student, who proceeded to sink under the table. "This year, his predicament was easily one of the worst, for he came face to face with Voldemort. It is likely that he could have died. Yet he came out of it more than the victor. I had hardly hoped that I might see the day when the Dark wizard's shadow would be lifted from us. Finally it has, for Harry Potter finally, truly defeated Voldemort."   
  
He let this sink in for a moment. Murmurs were heard all around. Just as the news that he had returned, the report of Voldemort's death would take a while to truly grasp.   
  
"No amount of House points could express the world's gratitude for what he has done, but for his courage, I award Mister Potter one hundred points." Ron was now holding Harry in his seat, grinning widely. "To Mister Ronald Weasley, Mister Draco Malfoy, and Miss Hermione Granger, I award each fifty points in their help to bring down Voldemort's forces."   
  
"Now I am brought to another matter, one perhaps even more important. This is the matter of two students who formed an unexpected alliance against all they had known. Since first they met, they shared an agreed enmity, an opposition most never would have thought them to overcome. One Slytherin, one Gryffindor, two top students, one Muggle-born, one from long lines of wizards… two students who could not be more different. They overcame this, and a love grew between them, and much more, something no one could have predicted. I am speaking, of course, of the Head Boy and Girl, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."   
  
Draco felt as though he wanted to do a Harry and sink under the table, until he looked at Hermione. While usually she would be straight-backed and attentive of the Headmaster's speech, now she stared raptly at Draco, locking his gaze with hers when he caught it. She did not have her typical mushy-love look, either, but an expression of somber devotion and pride. Her look said something to him that the words "We did it" could not. From that point, he barely heard what Dumbledore was saying.   
  
"Those of you who have been here for at least three years will remember the Sorting Hat speaking of unity between the Houses. Of anything we could take that to have meant, Hermione and Draco's example is the paradigm. No unity could be more surprising, or more beneficial, than that which they share. Let their love be an example to all of us, to embrace each other, figuratively at the least, and forget past wrongs."   
  
"For their outstanding courage to follow their hearts, and their perfect unity between houses, I award Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy each one hundred points."   
  
Draco's one hundred points did not change the fact that Gryffindor won the House Cup by a landslide, but that did not matter anymore. He almost felt like a part of Gryffindor, anyway, though he never would have chosen that house. It was not the house points that meant a lick to Draco, but the woman sitting next to him.   
  
The hand that had held hers slid around her waist, drawing her closer to him, and she nestled into his chest. She reached over and drew his other hand into both of hers. "I love you," she said, though it was barely audible.   
  
He kissed the top of her head. "I love you more."   
  
Not having expected that exact response, Hermione's head tilted up, a tiny grin splitting her lips… which Draco found so irresistible that he kissed her right there.   
  
Neither of them noticed that the entire hall, including all the Slytherins *and* Professor Snape, was applauding.   
  
When this had ceased, Dumbledore had three last words. "And now, dessert."   
  
Across the table, after the vast array of sweets had appeared, Ron could be witnessed sending thanks to any god he could think of. Harry merely shook his head, kissing Ron's cheek as he served himself some treacle tart.   
  
And still, neither Draco nor Hermione moved an inch. They sat in each other's embrace, almost oblivious to the dessert, simply feeling the love radiate from one heart to the other. As Harry and Ginny- who had both played Seeker for the Gryffindor team- would later tell them, their promise rings were fairly glowing that night.   
  
End Chapter 56   
  
Aww… it's so cute and mushy, I almost made myself cry when I was reading it over. I'm so jealous of them. Especially Hermione… hehe.   
  
Um, sorry for the delay, however long it was, though I think it's only been about a week since my last post. Well, I wasn't at home for most of the week anyway.   
  
"Goodbye, Harry Potter" confetti. Or some Draco-shaped confetti. Take your pick. 


	58. There To Stay

Chapter 57- There To Stay  
  
The had at last said goodbye to the castle, and were on their way back to Platform nine and three quarters. Hermione, Draco, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Seamus shared a compartment, the couples sitting together in a deflated, dull manner. Though Ginny was not leaving Hogwarts, her closest friends, the last of her family, and her boyfriend were. She had already complained about being alone at school for a whole year, while they were all off on their new jobs.   
  
Harry and Ron were the least depressed of them all, Hermione thought. They were laughing together, sharing kisses, and making fun of Hermione for being so emotional. "Draco, will you please say something?" she pleaded.   
  
"Hey, it's not like they're being untruthful." He seemed to be too amused to stop them.   
  
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" the lunch-cart witch had just come to their compartment.   
  
A positively impish grin crossed Ron's face, and he got up and hugged the woman, pretending to bawl generously. "I'm going to miss you so much!" The witch was startled by this, and she patted Ron's back comfortingly.   
  
In spite of herself, Hermione had to laugh with the others… if only because Ron looked so funny. It provided the much-needed release of their tension, and from then on, the train ride was more enjoyable. They bought a stack of everything from the cart, splitting it between the six of them and Neville, who had joined them. Everyone but Hermione and Draco started a game of Exploding Snap.   
  
The two of them remained in their place, in each other's embrace, and discussed the way things were. "So, how does it really feel, Hermione?"   
  
"Truly? I'm sort of glad I'll be out in the wizarding world, you know. I'll get my Apparition license-"   
  
"Within three hours-"   
  
"Get a job-"   
  
"Minister of Magic-"   
  
"Get married-"   
  
"To some hot blond, no doubt, with pale skin and gray eyes…"   
  
"Draco, I'm being serious…"   
  
"Well, so am I."   
  
"You really think I could be Minister of Magic?"   
  
"Do you think you couldn't? I had always thought that was your ambition. You should have been a Slytherin."   
  
"But then our story would not be so romantic, would it?" Hermione asked, smiling.   
  
"I suppose not. And there are certain people I never would have ended up in a compartment with…"   
  
"Not true," Harry called from over the heads of the Snappers. "You've come into our compartment every time since first year, and don't even try to deny it."   
  
"It was all her fault," Draco replied, pointing to Hermione. "If she wasn't so pretty, I wouldn't have been trying to see and impress her all the time."   
  
"It didn't work too well," Hermione commented tartly.   
  
Draco looked at her, pulling a shocked and hurt expression. "How could you? Oh, my wounded heart!"   
  
They all laughed again, and Draco brought his face down to meet with Hermione's. She sighed with contentment, then nestled into him. Thoughts of naps floated across her mind- a particularly nice one involving Draco as a body pillow was interrupted by his voice.   
  
"Hermione?"   
  
"What?" she mumbled, hardly coherent even to herself.   
  
"This thing about you coming to live with me… that's going to work out, right? Your parents are all right with it?"   
  
"Oh. Well, I haven't told them yet. I wanted to be able to explain to them why it will be a good thing, and I didn't want to do it by owl. So, I decided it could wait until I got home. Don't worry, Draco. They're good people, they will understand."   
  
He smiled, a truly wonderful, warm smile. "If you say so. I'll send Ras to you in a week or so, and ask you how it went."   
  
"I should hope so. I don't have my own owl, and it's terribly difficult finding an Owl Post Office where I live."   
  
"Just make sure that beast of yours doesn't do anything to him."   
  
"Draco! I don't think Crookshanks would like that very much, and remember, he's going to be living with you."   
  
She heard the beginnings of a groan, then a yawn, as though he was trying to cover it, but it did not fool her. She told him as much.   
  
"Oh well. It was worth a shot. Anyway, if you want me to, I'll try to stop saying things about Crookshanks."   
  
She noticed he did not say "bad things", but dismissed it. "Thank you."   
  
"Hey! Look at this!" Ron's voice rose above the rest, and they all grew quiet. He read off a short biography of an accomplished Auror who had given his life in the fight against "You-Know-Who", as the chocolate frog card said. What was special about this wizard was that he had been thought to be a Death Eater, spent twelve years in Azkaban, and then been cleared at last, when the true culprit was caught… but it was too late, he had died two years ago.   
  
"It can't be-" Ginny said.   
  
"It is," Ron interrupted.   
  
"Sirius," Harry said quietly, taking the card from Ron's hand. He smiled sadly as the picture appeared to wave to him. "All he really wanted was to see his name cleared, and look at this."   
  
They passed around the card. When it came to Hermione, she studied the picture for a while. It was an older one, where he had full, clean hair and some meat on his bones. He had been quite attractive, more so than any time she had known him in person.   
  
"I'm glad they finally recognized him," Hermione said, handing it back. "He deserved it. He never did anything but love his friends… there is nothing wrong with that."   
  
"You want this one, mate?" Ron said, offering the card to Harry. "I'll get one soon enough. You know, I eat these things all the time."   
  
"Thanks," Harry smiled, pocketing the card.   
  
And just like that, they had arrived at King's Cross. It was all too fast…   
  
She said her goodbyes quickly, promising to visit the Weasleys and Harry as soon as she was settled in with Draco. Then, she piled her luggage into her parents' car, and slid into the backseat with Crookshanks's cage.   
  
"So," her father said, a huge grin on his face. "Our little girl is all grown up. How does it feel to be out of school?"   
  
Hermione forced a smile out. She was sick of crying, anyway. "It feels great, Dad. I'm going to miss my classes, but I'll finally be able to make a difference in the world."   
  
She saw her mother and father exchange glances. "That's our Hermione, without a doubt."   
  
"Um, mum? Dad? When we get home, there's something I need to talk about with you."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
After watching Hermione leave with her parents, Draco readied himself to return to his flat. He let Ras out of his cage first, and sent out his message to the Ministry. Then he shrank all his luggage with a spell and slipped in into his pocket.   
  
"Diagon Alley, here I come."   
  
In truth, he went to his flat first to put his things away, but he went to Quality Quidditch Supplies directly after. Nick was just opening a box in the back of the store when he arrived. "Long time no see," Draco said to him.   
  
Starting, Nick turned and caught sight of the wizard standing behind him. "Draco Malfoy! Well, I guess I expected you to show up after the end of this school year. You're out of Hogwarts now, aren't you?"   
  
"Yes, and looking for a job until the Ministry responds to my note."   
  
Nick grinned. "I think I might be able to help you out there. Why don't you start with this shipment of brooms. I need them to be checked before I can sell them…"   
  
"I'll get right on it." With a half-smile, Draco rolled up his sleeves and took out his wand. He was back where he knew precisely what he was doing the entire time.   
  
Hermione's response to his letter was simple, and a relief to him. ~*Dear Draco, my parents agreed. They realize that I'm of age in our world, and I'll have to be leaving anyway. They're glad that I'll have a place to go to. They have one request, which is to meet you. Before I leave, that is. Tell me when you'll come to pick me up. Love, Hermoine. P.S. I got my Apparition license two days ago.*~   
  
Draco wrote a quick note telling her the time and date when he would arrive, then sat back and watched Ras disappear. Very soon Hermione would be living with him… and then he would have no reason to be unhappy-   
  
"Who is it!" he responded irritably to the knock on the door.   
  
"Your cousin!" the response came.   
  
"What?" Draco asked himself, going to the door, pulling it open. "Oh, it's you."   
  
"Well, hello to you too," Nymphadora Tonks replied. "I need to ask a favor."   
  
"What's with the luggage?"   
  
"Well, that has to do with the favor. May I come in?" Draco moved aside to let his cousin in, and shut the door behind her. The result of the following conversation was that Draco would have two women living with him for a while.   
  
************************************************************************  
  
Draco stood at Hermione's front door, just nervous enough for him to notice and force it back down to some unknown recess of his mind. He raised his hand and pressed the doorbell, then knocked three times. "I am not nervous," he told a panel of the door.   
  
It was Hermione's mother who answered, he could tell by the resemblance. "Well, hello. You must be Draco. Please, come in."   
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Granger," he replied, stepping past her. He told the part of his mind that was still a bit haughty and stuck up to shut up if it wanted Hermione to be returning with them.   
  
"Hermione is in the kitchen. We did not know you would be this early, or I would have fixed extra."   
  
"I already ate," Draco said simply. So Hermione had not told her parents when he would be coming? He had stated it clearly in the letter…  
  
"Still, if you're hungry let us know. I'm sure Hermione can *wand* something up for you."   
  
Being in the lead as she was, Mrs. Granger did not see Draco raise an eyebrow. It seemed that Hermione had of-age-fever.   
  
Only Mr. Granger was at the table when they arrived in the kitchen. "Where has Hermione got to?" her mother asked. He just shrugged and went back to his newspaper. "Hermione!"   
  
"Coming!" Hermione called back from somewhere above them. A moment later, a few stacks of luggage appeared behind Draco, and Hermione then appeared in front of him. Mrs. Granger's reaction was the tiniest shriek you could imagine.   
  
"Hermione, darling, I really wish you wouldn't do that." She turned to Draco. "She's been doing magic constantly since she got home. I'm getting better about it, but… do you know why?"   
  
"Sure I do," Draco replied. "It's because she can. Isn't that right?"   
  
"Your hair!" Hermione exclaimed.   
  
"Don't change the subject."   
  
"I'm not- well, I am, but that's not the point. Yes, it is right, and wow, it looks great." She ran her hands through it. About a week after he had gotten back to his flat, Tonks had asked him for some gel, and he had given her every hairstyling product he owned. Within two days, she had used it all. She had then told him his hair looked better without any gel anyway. He had gone to the mirror, which agreed, and then decided it wasn't worth the trouble to go out and buy more of the accursed stuff. Henceforth, his hair would be free.   
  
"It's really soft this way," Hermione commented.   
  
"Why, tha-" Draco broke off when he saw the look her parents were giving them. He cleared his throat. "Hermione, would you care to introduce me to your father?"   
  
"Why, yes. Father, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is my father, Thomas Granger."   
  
Only then did he set his paper aside and get up from the table. "Hello Draco." He took the extended hand in a firm handshake. "I've heard many things about you. Only recently have any of those things been good."   
  
"Dad," Hermione said, her cheeks reddening.   
  
"I trust my daughter's judgment, but if I find that you have hurt her or mistreated her in any way, be sure I'll come after you."   
  
"Good to know," Draco said. "I'm glad Hermione's family cares about her so much. Can I have my hand back now?"   
  
Mr. Granger looked down at their ongoing handshake and made a relenting face. "Um, yes. Of course." Letting go, he bent down to give Hermione a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Remember what we talked about, Hermione. You can always-"   
  
"I know, Dad. Thanks." She smiled tearfully at him, then turned to her mother. "Bye, mom."   
  
Her mother could not speak, but pulled her into a tight embrace, which lasted a good three minutes.   
  
"I hate to break up this beautiful moment," Draco said in Hermione's ear, "but are we going to leave? Ever?"   
  
Hermione pulled away, looking her mother in the eye meaningfully, and then turned to Draco, smiling widely. "Let's go, then."   
  
"Wait. Do you expect me to carry all this luggage?"   
  
"Well, what do you propose we do with it?" Hermione wondered, a hand on her hip in a very Professor McNoNonsense way.   
  
In answer, Draco took out his wand, spoke the same spell that had made his own luggage pocket-sized, bent down and placed Hermione's things in her hand. "There is a tiny Crookshanks in my hand," she said, amazed.   
  
Draco laughed. "I'll turn him back when we get there. Hey, I promise!" She had taken all of the skin on his stomach that she could get between two fingers and twisted. It wasn't much, but it still hurt.   
  
Hermione was facing her parents as they Apparated to his apartment. She was crying when they arrived there, but her tears quickly dried, replaced by joy. "I'm finally with you again! Oh, I missed you, Draco!"   
  
"Hermione, do you know what we haven't done yet?" She nodded and stepped forward. Their heads came together in a long hello kiss.   
  
"Ahem." A voice from the white and blue bedroom spoke. "And how are the lovebirds doing?"   
  
Their kiss ended, too quickly for Draco's liking, as Hermione whirled in surprise. "Tonks!" She exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Well, my apartment is being invaded at the moment. By my father's sister and her husband. I had to stop all the permanent spells while they're there. It's going to be a nightmare getting them all back into place. Anyway, I could not stand to live with them, not be able to do magic while I'm there… I'd have to avoid them half the time anyway. So I came to see my cousin Draco and ask him a favor. I'm staying here for the next month." Tonks's hair was a shade of red so bright he could not look directly at it.   
  
"Oh, that's right. Your mothers are sisters." Hermione said absently.   
  
"Come on, Hermione. We should put your things away."   
  
"Wait a minute," she said. A knowing smile was spreading across her face. "If Tonks is in the spare bedroom, where do you expect me to sleep, exactly?"   
  
"The girl's got a point," Tonks pointed out.   
  
"Thank you, Nymphadora," Draco glared. She glared back at the use of her given name, and went back into her bedroom. "Well, Hermione, I thought we might both sleep in my room. It's not like we're not used to sleeping together."   
  
She smiled wider. "You're right, aren't you? All right, let's unshrink Crookshanks."   
  
The aforementioned cat whined pitifully when he was put back to his normal size. "Oh, did the bad man hurt you?" Hermione cooed, scooping him into her arms.   
  
Draco stared incredulously. "*Bad man*?!!! Hermione…"   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you were there."   
  
"I can't believe this." He shook his head. "The cat gets more attention than I do."   
  
"Draco, I have to make him feel better. How would you feel if you were magically one hundredth of your actual size?"   
  
Draco chose not to answer, since that would have involved admitting a very closely guarded fantasy. Instead, he took her hands and led her into his- their- bedroom.   
  
Hours and hours later, they lay in the black bed, breathing softly as they prepared to fall asleep. Hermione's head rested on his chest. It was comforting having her there in his arms, laying like they had so many times in their common room. Hopefully Eros wouldn't bother them here… but love was there to stay.   
  
End Chapter 57  
  
For people who may have gotten certain ideas from their wishful speculation, Hermione and Draco have not had sex yet. Surprising on his end, but there it is.   
  
Lyra Silvertongue2- yay, my 500th review! You get some of those brownies you made for my birthday party. Those were really good. And you get them on that day, so they're still fresh. It's not like I have any left anyway…ahem. Yes. ~Hug~.   
  
Review for bright, bright red confetti and be prepared for some really mushy mushiness in chapter 58. 


	59. Third Consecutive Perfect Christmas

Chapter 58- Third Consecutive Perfect Christmas  
  
Hermione sighed contentedly. She and Draco were out for a walk on the grounds after a delicious lunch, and were eagerly awaiting Christmas dinner. As a surprise, Draco had brought her to Hogwarts for a holiday visit. It was one of those rare occasions where most of the students had gone home. They had already taken a tour through the castle that morning. Then had come a house-elf-cooked meal, which was simply scrumptious despite being prepared by slaves.   
  
They halted when they came to a familiar place; the tree under which they had sat numerous times together, both before and after they had become a couple. Well, a few times before, since that time had only spanned two months. The ground was dry enough for them to sit, her reclining against him, looking out over the lake.   
  
Hermione peered up at the sky. It was gray and probably bleak to some, but she thought it was beautiful. Gray like Draco's eyes. "Looks like it's going to rain soon," she commented. Though it was late December, the weather had been warm as of recently. Against her nature, Hermione had placed a bet that it would not snow until the next year at least- which meant until January.   
  
"Do we care?" Draco replied, his voice next to her ear.   
  
She leaned into him some more, smiling. "Not in the least. I like you when you're wet."   
  
"I like you all the time."   
  
"Thank you, Draco. That's sweet."   
  
She missed Harry and Ron. She would have liked to see them for the holiday, and yet it seemed that it was almost better with them not there. She needed to be alone with Draco. He had been spending most of his time at the Ministry since mid-October. Not that she thought Ron and Harry would be crowding them much. From reports she had heard, they took every opportunity to find a private place and- things she did not want to think about. She stroked Draco's hand to remind herself where she was.   
  
Time passed as in a dream, as though there really was no time, and still it passed. Hermione stretched suddenly, straining her back, then began to get to her feet. Draco stood more quickly, taking her hand before she had a chance to take a step.   
  
"Hermione, there is something I need to talk to you about." His face was unusually somber.   
  
"What is it? It's not bad, right? That would be- well, bad. And I've been having such a good day."   
  
He smiled slightly and shook his head. "No. It's not bad. But it is important."   
  
"All right. What?"   
  
Draco took a deep breath, gathering her hands in his, and began. "You love me, right?"   
  
She nodded. "Of course I do. You know that."   
  
"Right. I do. And I love you, more than I can put into words. But there is something else, something that recently occurred to me, and I've been trying to figure how to say it. I want to thank you for all you've done for me."   
  
"Draco, really, I don't…I…I haven't done anything."   
  
"Haven't done anything? What are you, crazy?"   
  
"Crazy about you." She smiled, then bit her lip. "Okay, so what have I done?"   
  
He tilted his head. He enfolded her in his eyes, wrapping her up in a warm wave of love. "You saved me, Hermione. You saved me from a life I would have been too helpless to reject. You gave me something to fight for. You, Hermione, are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I never would have expected it."   
  
She was stunned. "I…well, I don't know what to say."   
  
"Neither did I, at first." He looked toward the sky as thunder sounded, a rumble in the distance. "I've been trying to find the words for a month now, at least. I want to do this right."   
  
The rain began to pour down. Draco sank with it to one knee, ignoring the mud that would appear on his pants. Her eyes widened, because she knew what must be coming. Her breathing quickened, and she felt a flush paint her cheeks as water ran down her body.   
  
"Hermione, you are everything to me. I will do whatever I can to keep you with me, even if that means being your husband. Hermione Granger, the only woman I will ever love, will you marry me?"   
  
Some of the words he said sounded odd to her, but she realized it was because they were unnecessary. She knew all this when she looked into his eyes, and desired that feeling deeply. It was strange to hear him say it, but felt wonderful, and the thoughts she knew he was having as his eyes roved over her increasingly clingy clothing made her tingle.   
  
"Draco Malfoy, I am surprised at you."   
  
"What?" His face fell slightly. She saw the beginnings of panic, and smiled placatingly.   
  
"Do you even have to ask? Of course I'll marry you. What else would I do with you?"   
  
A slow grin spread on his face, and he caught her in his arms, standing and swinging her around. They moved out from the tree, into the pouring rain, and proceeded to snog passionately.   
  
When the passionate snogging had ended, they stood in each other's arms. Hermione sighed, with much more contentment than her previous sigh. "The wedding is going to be beautiful," she murmured happily.   
  
"Oh, you're not planning it already, are you?" Draco groaned.   
  
"Of course I am. I'm a woman, aren't I?"   
  
"Well, come on, then. What's our wedding going to be like?"   
  
She looked up at him, taking in his magnificent, lovely face as though it might go away any second. "Well, I'll be there, and you'll be there."   
  
"Mmm. Good picture so far. I like it."   
  
"And I'll become Hermione Malfoy."   
  
"Oo, I like that as well. Has a nice ring to it. What else?"   
  
"What do you mean, what else?" she berated him. "Isn't that enough for you?"   
  
"You mean that's all you've got?"   
  
She nodded, her smile growing. Draco smiled as well, a wicked, seductive smile that made her legs feel weak. "That's a good plan." He brought his mouth down to cover hers, and a deep kiss resulted.   
  
"We're very wet right now," Hermione said, pointing out the obvious as she rarely did.   
  
"Do you think I could make you any wetter?" he asked, tracing a hand down her stomach, just barely reaching a hand into her jeans.   
  
"I don't doubt it," she whispered, with a sharp intake of breath. "But we should probably go somewhere more private for that."   
  
Neither of them needed to say what they both wanted right then. They made for the Room of Requirement as nonchalantly as they dared. Their clothes were still soaked when they reached it. They had dispensed of their garments within seconds, but their skin was still wet through.   
  
"Are you sure you want this now?" Draco asked.   
  
Hermione's mouth curled into the slightest smile. "Positive," she returned. They sank to the floor, their lips locked together. She felt his hand travel down her body, then enter her. After her initial gasp of pleasure, they were swept up in a passion Hermione would never be able to describe.   
  
The dinner that day was the best she had ever tasted, and that needed no exaggeration whatsoever. When she looked at Draco, she knew that this was not attributed to the quality of the food or the skill of the cook.   
  
End Chapter 58   
  
Hmm. What could they possibly have been doing? Getting it on, obviously. I'm not going to describe it, though. I think the poor kids deserve a *little* privacy, don't you?   
  
You'll be relieved to find out that all that is left is the epilogue. That's right, darlings, we've reached the end. Sometimes I doubted we ever would, but our leads managed to pull through. Go them.   
  
Review for some kind of confetti! 


	60. Surprises

Epilogue- Surprises  
  
"Why," Hermione asked herself, "am I correcting essays on Christmas?" Sighing, she set the one she had just finished aside on her desk. After checking the name again, she decided she was a bit disappointed in Mitchell Andegia. He usually had such high grades…but she herself had slipped a few times when she was a student. She added two points to his grade as clemency.   
  
Why indeed. She knew exactly why she was doing work on a holiday. Draco was characteristically absent, and she had to distract herself from his lack of presence somehow. Correcting Transfiguration essays seemed a very distracting activity to her. Today, however, it was not serving to break her mind away from her far-away husband. She pushed back her chair, leaving ten unmarked essays forgotten on her desktop as she exited the classroom.   
  
At first she had thought to go to her room, but then she remembered her promise to spend time with Harry. She still had to actually do that. Hogwarts was as vast as it had always been, but she knew immediately where Harry was. Smiling at his predictability, Hermione set off for the Quidditch pitch.   
  
"Professor Potter!" she called, waving to him from the Gryffindor stands. He was far across the field.   
  
"Hello, Professor Malfoy!" he answered, waving back. In so many years, Hermione still felt so good whenever someone called her by Draco's name.  
  
Harry, in an impressive twist, had completed the last two years of Auror training in one year. Then, he spent five years as an Auror, tracking down Death Eaters who had managed to escape, reversing dark curses, and the like. In what could hardly be called a surprising move, Dumbledore had asked him to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was now in the middle of his sixth year teaching. Not only had he set the record of being the only Defense teacher in over fifty years to stay on for more than one term, he was also the head of Gryffindor House.   
  
"How's the loneliness going?" Harry asked her.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The loneliness is fine, thank you, Harry. Yours?"   
  
Ron was very near the top of the ladder in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. This meant a lot of free travel- which had a good side and a bad side. It made up for all the trips he never got to take when he was younger, but it kept him away from Harry. Ron, however, was not gone nearly as much as Draco.   
  
As Harry dismounted into the stands and sat beside her, Hermione drew up a memory from sixth year. Draco had talked a few times about wanting a Ministry job fighting Dark Arts. She never understood why he wouldn't just settle for Auror, but he insisted that he would create some kind of job for himself. At the time, she had just shaken her head, but he had made her eat her words- just once- when they left school.   
  
Draco had proposed a new department in a letter to the Ministry. They had accepted gladly, and Draco had immediately been called in to run it. Once the Department For Dark Magic Prevention was on its feet, he left the papers and the office and stepped into fieldwork. It took him away from his life more than even Ron's job.   
  
Draco worked as a Dark Detector. Not one of the contraptions Moody had kept in his office, but a wizard who responded to any signs of Dark Magic being used. While the Aurors worked to catch Dark wizards and witches, Dark Detectors had the task of fighting Dark Magic itself, which did not always mean dealing with humans. Basically, their job was to keep any more Dark Lords from gaining power. And Draco was the best at the job, resulting in them requiring him for almost everything.   
  
It was a lonely life, being the wife of a Dark Detector who was hardly ever home.   
  
"Hermione?" Harry asked. She started back into focus.   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. I was thinking about-" her eyes teared up and she stopped suddenly. Harry dismounted into the stands, then took a seat beside her. His arm went around her shoulders. She leaned into him, blinking back her tears. "I just miss him so much," she sighed.   
  
A kiss on her forehead comforted her. "I know you do. As surprising as it is, I miss him, too."   
  
"You miss Ron more," she informed him.   
  
"I should think so. Ron is the one I'm sleeping with."   
  
Hermione giggled. "Wasn't he supposed to be here today?"   
  
"He will be. Not until after Christmas dinner, though. I'd better ask the house elves to save some. He'd be heartbroken to miss a Hogwarts meal by so little. What about…is he coming?"   
  
She shook her head. "I don't know. He is currently in Tanzania, or at least I think he is. Sometimes he doesn't tell me what country he's in, for various reasons. Anyway, if everything goes well, I expect to see him soon, but…"   
  
"But not today?"   
  
She nodded. "Not today," she whispered. Harry pulled her closer, his other arm joining the first in a Boy Who Is Filled To The Brim With Tender Caring embrace.   
  
"Do you want to know what I think?" he asked her.   
  
"Well, of course," she answered. "Is it good or bad?"   
  
He pulled away, looking her in the eye, and smiled. "I think he loves you too much to keep away today. He'll be here."   
  
Hermione's expression completely melted. "Thank you, Harry. It's so wonderful to have my gay best friend on the staff."   
  
Harry burst out laughing. "That created a very inappropriate image, which I am now trying to get rid of, but it is a very difficult thing. Hermione, you really need to choose your words more carefully," he said when he had regained his breath.   
  
Instead of answering, Hermione swatted at him, then pushed him over when he dodged it. They talked for a few more minutes, then Harry took off for another round on his broom. Hermione, slightly cheered, headed inside.   
  
Entering her room turned out to be quite an ordeal. She forgot at first that she had changed the password the day before, and was frustrated that she could not get in. Once she was inside, she closed the door and began to settle in for the few hours until dinner. The moment she opened the door to the bathroom to take a shower, something that looked very much like her husband jumped out at her, and she screamed.   
  
"Draco! Don't do that! You know I hate it."   
  
He adopted a pleading, guilty, puppy-dog expression. Hermione let her smile grow and launched herself on top of him.   
  
"Draco! I'm so glad to see you! When did you get here? How long are you staying? Why were you hiding in the bathroom?"   
  
"Whoa, slow down, Hermione! It's hard to hear with your hip in my stomach, to begin with." She moved to a sitting position, and he joined her. "I let them know down at the Ministry that they could handle a few cases without me, and that I needed to be with Mrs. Malfoy on Christmas. So until something incredibly important comes up, or after New Year's, I'll be here."   
  
"That long? Oh, how wonderful!" Hermione felt like a giddy little girl. That was an entire week! It was longer than any stretch of time Draco had been with her for months. She leaned in to kiss him, and he eagerly returned it.   
  
A few minutes later, they had migrated to the bed. "I know this is Christmas morning stuff, but I wasn't here. Happy Christmas." He held out a small black box with white ribbon. Hermione took it delicately.   
  
Inside the box was a small vial of something sparkly attached to a silver chain. The vial was of clear crystal and had a stopper in the shape of a faery- a real faery, not those commercial ones all the girls seemed to be wearing. "Oh, Draco, it's beautiful. Is it faery dust?"   
  
"Yes." He fastened it around her neck. "There. Looks good on you." They both smiled. "I picked that up in Ireland last year, but I already had your present. So I decided to save it for this year."   
  
"Ah, Draco, how you spoil me," she laughed. She looked up suddenly, her expression turned serious. "Draco, I don't have a material present for you, but I have something that I know you've been wanting, for a long time." She paused, but Draco did not speak, and she dove right in. "I'm pregnant."   
  
The room was silent for a few seconds, and then Draco began to smile. "Really? Whe- wha… That's great!"   
  
Hermione began to laugh. "I know, darling. I just found out last week."   
  
Draco had leapt up and begun to pace, and now he stopped in front of her, dropping to his knees. "Oh…but that doesn't mean we can't have sex, does it?"   
  
Hermione laughed again. She looked into his eyes and stroked his cheek. "That comes later, Draco. I think the seventh month or so."   
  
"Good." He took her hand and pulled her up. "Let's go see how steamy we can make the shower." They kissed all the way to the bathroom.   
  
End of Story  
  
And that. Is that.   
  
So here we are, at the end of the end. Or, at the author's note of the end, which is essentially the same thing. We've had some laughs, cries, emotions running flimby, and some confetti. I know I've enjoyed it, though I am glad it's over. I can finally be done with this story! Oh, yay! Yayayay!   
  
Some of you may have noticed the irrelevance of the last line in the story. I realize that no one cares if they kissed all the way to the bathroom, and it doesn't really matter because it's not important to the story in any way. And that is exactly why I chose to end it with 'They kissed all the way to the bathroom.' Think about that.   
  
So I've got this huge assortment of confetti here, much more than I could ever use. If you review, you get a lifetime supply of confetti. And this is a limited offer. You have to review within one year of posting. After that, the confetti's gone. You've missed out, and you'll never, never find the confetti! Bwah!   
  
Ahem.   
  
So, hugs and confetti to all, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. And a few of those 'please review my other stories, if you will'. Especially As Darkness Destroys Us and Ashamed. No, they are not Draco/Hermione, but just get over it.   
  
Thanks, bye! 


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